The New Kid
by yikesgal
Summary: Set when the kids are older. Swearing, typical South Park comedy and mature themes, obviously. Disclaimer: This is still active. I'm crap at updating regularly. I'm currently aiming for once a month. Disclaimer two: It's not a story about the TFBW. I started this a few years ago. Some things might be reminiscent of the game but it's not going to follow the story-line of it.
1. Chapter 1

She sat on the front steps as snow fell softly around her. She'd moved to this little mountain town late last night, and hadn't been able to sleep since. Her parents were undeniably excited about the move, but she felt a little more apprehensive. She'd never even heard of South Park before, or seen it on a map. It was a tiny town stuck in the middle of nowhere, and she'd just had her whole life up-rooted to move there.

It had taken them five hours to drive from their old town to this crap-hole, and every minute was filled with her parents sprouting lines like they were part of some made-for-tv movie.

"Oh, this town is so peaceful."

"This is just what we needed – after, y'know…"

"Sweetheart, look at the cows! Ah, this little town is just perfect for us!"

She scrunched the snow that gathered around her feet in her hand. Her parents would fit right in here. They were the type of people that thought moving across the country would magically fix all their problems. Her eyelids felt heavy, and as the sun had risen, she'd started to wish she'd tried harder to fall asleep during the night. She was expected to spend the whole day helping unpack, and then tomorrow she was straight into school.

Slurs suddenly sounded up the street. She spun her heavy head to the noise, curious as to who would be so confident in yelling shit like that up what looked like a pretty middle-class suburban street. Four boys were walking up the side walk, and a particularly fat one was mouthing off. "Jews cannot be fucking trusted, I told you guys! I gave you one thing to do Kyle, one goddamn thing! You did this on fucking purpose!" His chin wobbled in frustration as he struggled to keep up with the other three. Wearing a bright red coat and a turquoise and yellow bobble beanie, he slightly reminded her of a dollar store teddy bear. A really fat, ugly, anti-semitic teddy bear.

"Are you kidding me? I had to do nearly everything! It's not _my_ fault you didn't write _your_ tiny part of the speech!" A much skinnier boy in a bright green hat and orange jacket shot back – he must be Kyle. He'd decided to sport dark green trousers and lime green gloves as well. Interesting fashion choice, but whatever.

"No, no, no, no!" The fat-ass's voice went so high in his rage she had to fight off the urge to cover her ears. "I distinctly remember you saying you'd do that part, you lying, back-stabbing asshole!"

"Shut up, Cartman." The boy walking in front looked visibly annoyed by this exchange. The most normal looking of the four, he was dressed in brown and blue. He also wore a knitted bobble hat, with a red pom-pom on the top. They must be big in this town. "No one cares that you were too lazy to write your own part. You deserve to fail." They were getting closer to her now, and she started to feel a little weird about sitting on her steps. Going inside probably would've been a good idea at this point, but she was pretty sure the fat kid would pass out soon, and she kind of wanted to see it.

"Of course you side with the Jew, Stan. Big fucking surprise there. You're so far up his ass, you can't see that I'm getting ripped off!" Cartmans face was bright red, and was visibly puffed. He forcibly stopped the kid in front him, and his expression changed in an instant. "What about you Kennyyyy? You agree that Kyle should take the fall for this, don't youuuuu?" His voice had switched to the weedly-whine children often pulled out when they were begging their parents for a new toy.

A muffled noise came from the final boy. His face was obscured due to the oversized orange parka he wore, and she couldn't understand a word that he said. However, it seemed the other boys could. "Ah, well what the hell would you know, you're fucking poor! Poor people like you have no problem with fucking other people over!" Whatever Kenny had said, it hadn't been what the fat-ass was hoping for. They were nearly at her house now, and she averted her eyes, attempting to give off the impression she hadn't just listened in on their whole conversation.

Cartman continued on his tirade, and from the sound of his footsteps, he'd managed to run in front of the other boys. "This is a fucking outrage, I swear to god Kyle, I'll –" The muffled voice of Kenny spoke up, and suddenly all the footsteps had stopped. She felt all their eyes on her as she tried to fiddle with the snow at her feet as casually as possible. God, she should've just gone inside. The chance to watch him pass out wasn't worth it.

"Who the fuck is this? When did Kevin move?" Cartmans voice irritated her enough that she found the courage to look him in the eye.

"Like last week, dude." Stan stared at her nervously. He looked a little sick. "Who're you?"

"I'm Cooper." She said defiantly, glaring at Cartman, trying to give off the impression she was a lot more confident than she felt. "Who're you?"

"I'm Kyle," Kyle started, and introduced Kenny and Stan as well. "…and the fat-ass is Cartman."

" _I'm_ _not fucking fat, I'm big-boned_!" Cartman spat in retaliation, and Cooper couldn't stop the snigger that slipped out. Cartman glared at her, "Like we didn't have enough bitchy girls in this town already." His cheeks seemed to be permanently red from anger. She saw an early-in-life heart attack in his near future.

Kenny cut in with more muffled noise before she had the chance to insult Cartman back, which was probably for the better. Kyle agreed, inadvertently revealing what Kenny said to her. "Yeah, shut the fuck up Cartman." She didn't understand how the muffled noises translated into English, but the boys certainly seemed to comprehend it. Was it just her? She inwardly wondered whether she had below-average hearing. "Are you going to South Park high school?"

"Tomorrows my first day."

"C'mon guys, this girl is lame!" Cartman moaned. "Lets get to the bus-stop already. I'm not walking to school." He walked off in a huff.

"You _couldn't_ walk to school, you fat-ass. You'd have a heart attack before you even made it halfway." Kyle called to his retreating back. She was getting the impression he and Cartman had a difficult relationship. "Well, I guess we'll see you in school tomorrow." Kyle waved, and Stan and Kenny both glanced at her quickly before mumbling their goodbyes. As they wandered off down the road, she heard Cartman scold Kyle.

" – the fuck did you say you'd see her in school tomorrow? We aren't hanging out with a girl."

She sighed heavily, and put her head in her hands. Cartman's voice rang in her head, awakening fears she'd tried to push deep down inside. Making friends wasn't exactly her strong point - and in this sort of town, at her age.. well, it would be hard for an _outgoing_ person to make friends. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she looked back up at their retreating figures. She met the eyes of Kenny, who held eye contact for a surprisingly long amount of time before he turned back to his friends.


	2. Chapter 2

She slept through most of the day. When she awoke the sun was setting through her open window, and the cool evening breeze was making her breath come out foggy. Mentally reprimanding herself for sleeping throughout the day, she dragged herself out of bed. It was safe to say her sleeping schedule would be well and truly screwed for the next few days, and school tomorrow would be a special kind of waking-hell. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she padded over to the window. Some loud noise had awoken her – she'd probably still be asleep if it hadn't sounded through her window. She glanced outside and saw the same four boys she'd seen this morning standing outside the house a few doors down. The one she remembered being called Stan went inside the house, and the other three stayed outside arguing.

She turned away from the window and started to walk away. Cartmans loud, grating voice had already started to hurt her ears. She wanted to close the window, but the room needed to air from the recent paint job. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the noise. "…Don't be a fucking wuss Kenny! We all know you're the only one that can go in there. You're being a fucking fag!"

Another voice shot back, but she couldn't catch what they said. Her curiosity had been slightly bated, as much as she didn't want to care what they were doing. She heard a door slam, and Stan speak up. "Alright, I got it. Come on, let's go." She edged back to the window, and took a peek outside. He was carrying a large box that seemed to have the word 'dangerous' written on the side. What were they doing? "If we're going to do this, we've got to do it quick."

"Kenny doesn't want to be the one to sneak into the base!" Cartman glared over at Kenny.

"Dude, weak! Why? We've already decided that you're the one that's going to do it." Stan groaned.

"It's because he's a fucking pussy!"

She heard Kennys muffled voice shout out in retaliation.

"Prove you're not a pussy Kenny, and go do the damned thing!" How on earth were the other three boys friends with Cartman? He seemed to spend eighty percent of the time shouting insults at them.

She watched them walk away, lugging the heavy box between them. Whatever they were trying to do, she had the inkling it wasn't going to be good. Her face crinkled as she pondered the thought, until her mother called her down to eat.

Tea was long and awkward. Her parents raved on about their new neighbours, The Marshes and the Broflovskis, and about how they were invited to dinner with them the next night.

"It's going to be wonderful darling, we're already making friends. We're so lucky that the Marshes live nearby, this town is so welcoming – Mrs Marsh even invited me to lunch with her on the weekend, she was telling me about this great little Chinese place –" Her mothers incessant rambling continued on until Coopers plate was empty, and she had the chance to escape. Her relationship with her parents wasn't exactly conventional. As longtime alcoholics that refused to believe they had a problem, they'd kind of forced her to be an adult a lot earlier than most kids. It was the typical middle-class family secret - they'd look normal from the outside, but get home and drown themselves in cheap red-wine. This meal was probably the first one she'd had made for her in a few months, and she'd put it down to the move. Coming here was meant to get them away from the past, get a new start; all that white-family moving to a new house jazz. She doubted it was going to fix anything, and sitting down for a family dinner just felt weird to her now.

On the way back upstairs, her father yelled up at her. "Cooper, tomorrow I want you to try and make some friends. This town is a new start for us, and you've got to embrace that. Maybe try and find the Marsh children at school." She groaned out a reply. She assumed Stan was the kid they were talking about, and she had gotten the impression that making friends with his group would be harder than her parents thought.

She walked into her room, sighing at the multitudes of unpacked boxes littering the floor. It didn't feel quite _hers_ yet. She'd lived in their previous house her whole life, and that room had been her sanctuary. It was full of marks from her childhood - a stain on the carpet from when she'd snuck chocolate milk in late at night and tripped over a shoe in the darkness, paint marks on the wall from when she'd decided she wanted to be an artist. Even the carpet was indented from the legs of her bed. This room was clean, and white, and had floorboards, so there were no dents to show that furniture had ever been placed there. She supposed once she'd unpacked some boxes and put more of her personality into the room, she'd feel more comfortable. It just felt strange to her now.

She closed the door and suddenly came face-to-face with her reflection. She'd always had a mixed relationship with her looks. She wasn't tall, she didn't have tanned skin, and her face wasn't defined or striking. She was well aware that she wasn't conventionally beautiful or stunning. Her hair was dark black, and cut a few inches below her shoulders, framing her oval-shaped face. Her face was slightly red in places; leftover marks from when she used to have acne. Her skin had been pretty bad until her mother had put her on some prescription tablets that cleared them all up. Her nose had always been described by her mother as a "pigs" nose, as it sloped up slightly at the end. It wasn't particularly wide, or long - really, it wasn't that bad. It was just the "pig" comment that her family thought was so funny that tainted it for her. Her lips were naturally a dark pink, and in her opinion, a little weird. They weren't wide at all, constantly giving her a bit of a pout, with a fairly thin top lip and a larger bottom one. When she was younger she'd hated them, and always wanted her top lip to be thicker. Her eyes were blue, which she supposed was a "desirable" colour, but they didn't sparkle like the sky or the sea. She was short, and skinny, but not muscular in any way. She'd tried to work out a year or so ago and just lost motivation after a few weeks. Her small size was probably due to the lack of food they usually had at home instead.

This wasn't to say that she thought she was ugly either. She was attractive, enough. She just wasn't spectacular in anyway. She supposed that she should be happy with that. She tried not to put stock into whether she was conventionally attractive, but society kind of made it a priority. She rubbed her tired eyes, noticing the dark circles that had taken up residence. She couldn't change what she looked like anyway.

She tore her eyes away from the mirror stuck onto the back of the door. She hadn't been aware that was there until she'd closed the door. She hadn't looked at herself in the mirror since they'd left their old house, and just like the room, she found herself feeling like she wasn't quite _her_ here _._ She tried to put it down to being unable to do any of the things she always used to be able to do. Whenever she felt sad, or alone, she used to sneak out to her secret spot. It wasn't _really_ a secret, if she was really honest with herself - it was just on the top of her roof. She was able to swing out onto the ledge of her window, climb a bit up the pipe and pull herself onto the roof with minimal effort. She walked over to the window here and stuck her head out, looking up at the roof. There was no ledge for her to stand on, and only a rusty old pipe to climb. The only viable option she could see was a tree placed next to her window. The trunk was still thick at her window height, so she could probably climb the branches up to the roof safely enough. She felt too tired to do it now. It wouldn't feel the same anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

She'd probably only been asleep for a few hours before she was jerked back into consciousness by the sound of an explosion. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could already feel the adrenaline pumping through her. Sounds of gunfire echoed through the night. Her eyes darted toward the window. Instinct told her to stay away, but curiosity was harder to fight off. She slowly made her way to the window on her knees and poked her head up just past the windowsill. Smoke was rising on the far side of town, and she could see a warm glow. She couldn't hear the gunshots anymore, but the smoke had already started to make the air around her smell. She scanned around the street. Nobody else was looking through their windows, or standing out on the street. Why hadn't anyone else noticed the clearly obvious explosion?

She heard a commotion from down the street. Her head snapped to the side, and she saw three figures frantically running through the gardens of the houses. At first glance she knew one of them had to be Cartman – he was metres behind the other two, and twice the size. They ran to the snow in front of Stans yard and fell to the ground. "Oh my god, they killed Kenny!" Stan yelped.

"Those bastards!" Kyle was on his hands and knees, clearly puffed.

"Guys, we can never tell anyone about this. We weren't there. We were all in bed, asleep, and the explosion had nothing to do with us!" Cartman gasped for air. Her eyes widened. What did they do? The other two boys nodded in agreement. She watched in horror as Cartman wandered off to his house, and Kyle followed soon after. Their panic had quickly subsided into casual indifference. It was only Stan lying in the snow when she gathered the courage to call out to him.

"What the hell happened?" She watched as he turned around to meet her gaze, with eyes like a deer in headlights. He quickly looked away.

"… I don't know. I just came out from my house to see what the noise was." He still looked sick, and she saw him jerk a little as he stopped himself from vomiting.

"That's a lie. I just saw you guys run from over there and talk about it! What was that explosion?" She glanced back at the warm glow in the distance as he stumbled over an excuse.

"I don't know. Nothing to do with us." She rolled her eyes. It was clear that he wasn't interested in sharing anything with her. She stared at the glow, trying to figure out what was over on that side of town. She hadn't explored enough to even know where the grocery store was yet. There was nothing she could do now anyway. What was she going to do, walk over there with a bucket of water and try to put the fire out herself?

"Fine, whatever."

* * *

The next morning, she stood groggily at the bus-stop near her house. She'd gotten there extra early, probably due to sheer nerves. The majority of her morning had been spent pondering what she'd thought she'd seen last night. She wasn't entirely sure she hadn't dreamt it all. When she'd woken up, she'd flicked through all the news-stations on television and stolen the newspaper from her dad, and not one media outlet had reported any sort of explosion. She'd even asked her parents if they'd heard anything, but was only met with confused looks. At the bus stop, she'd decided if she saw Kenny at school today, last night would have to be a dream. They had said he _died_. People don't just come back.

She'd been waiting at the bus stop for around half an hour before she heard the banter of boys approaching. Cartmans voice was the loudest, as she'd come to expect from her few interactions with him. She'd forgotten that they'd catch the bus at the same stop as her.

"The fuck is this? You can't wait here!" Cartman greeted her angrily. "This is our bus-stop!"

She gathered as much fierceness as she could in her groggy state and glared up at him. "And now it's mine." Her eyes were drawn to the oversized orange jacket of Kenny. The fact that the night before was a dream was both a relief and a point of embarrassment. Why was she dreaming about them?

"No, no, you don't understand. We wait here, every morning, just the _FOUR_ of us. It's always just us _four_." Cartman gestured at other three boys, who were avoiding eye-contact, apart from Kyle. "You have to get your mum to drive you to school or something. This isn't happening."

She wasn't sure if he was just terrible at a first impression or just a terrible person. It had been all of about ten seconds and she could already feel herself getting properly mad at him. "Look, kid, this is the closest bus stop to my house. I'm not walking all the way to school just so you can feel -"

He cut her off. "KID?! I'm probably older than you, you stupid girl!"

"Well start acting like it, you fat-ass! Go stand over there if you don't want to be near me!"

"Jesus Cartman, just shut up. It's not a big deal." Kyle rolled his eyes at the anger-filled figure of Cartman, who was positively red by now and shaking in anger from her last comment.

"It is _so_ a big deal!" Cartman drawled, switching back to his weedle. "Kenny, aren't you going to say anything? This isn't right, she can't stay here, yeah?"

She caught the end of Kennys muffled speak. "… hot, I don't care if she stays."

"Oh, great to know Kenny. All it takes to get in between our friendship is a pair of tits, apparently!" Cartman turned to Stan, his final chance at back-up. "C'mon Stan, you've got to agree with me. It's always just been us! This is our stop!"

Stan finally looked up, but didn't look straight at her. "She needs to get to school, man. Just because Kevins mom dropped him at school doesn't mean hers is going to."

"Fine, fine!" Cartmans faced dropped, realising he was out-numbered. "I'm sorry that I'm the only one that cares about tradition! Just let it be remembered, I am _NOT_ happy about this."

"Yeah, you've made that fairly clear." She muttered.

They all stood there in silence for a while. Even though the other boys had stood up for her, she had the feeling that her presence was making them all a little uncomfortable. She'd only seen them a few times, but each time they'd talked – a lot. The silence that hung around them felt un-natural.

She bit her lip and stared out at the snowy landscape, trying not to show how awkward she felt. She had to catch the bus – the school was miles away and she wasn't about to walk. Thankfully, the silence was broken a few minutes later by the muffled voice of Kenny. Again, she could only catch the end of his sentence, "…she in?" She made a mental note to try and learn how to understand him.

She peeked over at him, confused. Was he talking to her? Both him and Kyle were looking back at her, so she assumed so. Kyle noticed the expression on her face and repeated what Kenny had said. "He asked what class you're in, do you know yet?"

Grateful that it was no longer silent, she replied. "Yeah… the letter I got from the school said class 4THG." Kenny made a little noise, but she didn't catch it. "I don't get it though, don't you guys have separate classes for the different subjects? How can I only be in one?"

Kyle shook his head, "Nah, in our school we just have the one teacher per group that teaches us everything. There aren't enough teachers at the school to have all different classes. That means you're in -"

"Wait, did she just say 4THG?" Cartman perked up out of his child-like slump, cutting Kyle off. "You've got to be _fucking_ kidding me! First it's our bus-stop, and now it's our class! I don't like you." He turned to put his fat finger in front of her face.

"The feeling is mutual." She backed away, irritated. She guessed that meant they were in her class.

Kyle glared at Cartman. "That means you're in our class. Mr. Garrison is the teacher... he's... he's certainly interesting."

Her eyebrows furrowed. That wasn't exactly a shining review. She was about to ask what he meant when the bus to school barrelled around the corner and stopped sharply in front of the stop. Cartman shot her a glare as he pushed past her. If the morning was anything to go by, today was going to be tiring.


	4. Chapter 4

The bus ride was petrifying. There was only one seat empty, and it was covered in muck and dirt. Everybody else had already piled on in pairs, so she had no choice but to sit on the dirty seat by herself. Kyle and Stan were sitting a few seats in front of her, and they had a couple of girls sitting nearby, who were talking happily to them. Kenny was a seat behind them, and Cartman was sitting with him. Cartman shot angry glances at her every so often, but she caught Kenny punching him in the arm after each one. She was going to have to figure out how she could get Cartman to hate her less. She wasn't expecting to be great friends, but the blatant distaste at her mere presence would probably be counter-productive to making any friends.

The scary part of the ride was the actual driving. The bus-driver was erratic, and she wasn't entirely sure they were paying a large amount of attention to where they were going. Between holding on for dear life and trying to ignore Cartman, she'd started to feel even more anxious about the day ahead.

The noise of the bus was deafening. Each kid was babbling away, but every so often she'd catch a snippet of conversation between them. Cartman was still bitching about her to Kenny, who seemed to be ignoring him, or saying something she couldn't understand. The disabled kid opposite her was telling jokes, and the guy sitting next to him just said "Timmy!" a lot.

The bus finally stopped in front of the school, and she wondered whether she should thank whatever deity had helped the bus avoid flying off the road. Cartman again pushed in front of her as they filed off the bus, but Kenny just shot her an excited glance, gesturing enthusiastically for her to go in front. She heard him push another kid behind her out of the way. As she came near to the seat that Kyle and Stan were still sitting on, she heard a whispered conversation. Kyle was glancing at her, while Stan was looking straight down. " – Stan, you're going to have to look at her eventually. You can't constantly ignore her, she's going to be in our class –" Kyle lowered his voice as she got closer, and she tried to pretend to not notice they were talking about her.

"Man, I can't. If Wendy sees me looking sick, she'll go mental!" Stan whispered it, but she could still hear him. If he wasn't going to look at her, that would probably make her dads request of friendship a hell of a lot harder to fulfill.

Cartman was waiting for Kenny outside the bus, and she tried to avoid noticing his angry glares as she passed. "The fuck dude? Why'd you wait?" She only understood her name and the word ass from Kenny as she walked away. She was going to have to learn how to understand him. "That's fucking gross dude, she hasn't even got a good –" Thankfully, Cartman's voice faded away as the noise from inside the school took over.

* * *

She rushed through the school halls to get to the main office as quick as possible. She wanted to be in her class early – but considering how long the bus ride had taken, she doubted that she'd be in class before the bell rang. During the awkward meeting with the school principal and guidance counselor, she heard the bell sounding through the halls outside the room. She was going to be late.

The meeting went on for about another half an hour after class had started. The counselor was called Mr. Mackey, and had a habit of checking if she was okay at the end of each sentence. The principal, who introduced herself as Victoria, had a thick accent and curly blonde hair, and for the most part stayed fairly quiet. They'd wasted most of the time at the start of the meeting with Mr. Mackey rambling about the school policies, and it was only in the last ten minutes or so that they realized they had some actual administrative things to do for her. By the end of it all, she was fighting off the urge to scream.

Mr. Mackey decided he'd walk her to class. The school wasn't that big, so she was pretty sure she'd have been able to find it herself. However, turning up to class nearly an hour late would probably go down better if she had a school official with her. Especially considering Kyles review of the teacher.

As they got closer to the door, she could hear a commotion from inside the classroom. It didn't sound like they were doing much work. Mr. Mackey shot her a supportive glance. "Your classmates are all really nice, m'kay?" She smiled back, but from the classmates she'd met so far, she didn't entirely believe him. She could hear Cartman's voice already.

Mr. Mackey swung the door open, revealing the scene unfolding behind it. A balding man – or woman, it wasn't all that obvious – dressed all in green was standing at front of the class, tapping the chalk against the board angrily. Cartman was leaning forward on his desk, waving his finger around, halfway through a tirade. Both of them turned to look at her; as did the rest of the class. She clutched the books she was holding tighter. The sea of faces suddenly made her feel sick, and she found herself searching for the faces of one of the boys so she could see someone familiar. Kennys bright jacket was the first one she saw. Kyle was sitting near him, and Stan next to Kyle. Kenny was whispering angrily at a kid next to him, but Kyle had smiled at her, calming her nerves a little. Stan was the only person in the class that hadn't looked at her and was instead staring off out the window. The only spare seat she could see was on the opposite end of the class from them all, next to a kid in a blue hat. She figured that would be her seat.

"Who the hell is this?" The teacher snapped, glaring at her. Cooper flinched at the angry tone.

"This is Cooper, Mr. Garrison. This is her first day – she just got put into the system." Mackey's weedy voice stayed the same, suggesting the unkind tone wasn't anything new.

"Great, another dumb arse to babysit." Garrison stared at her angrily. "You can go, Mackey." Mackey patted her on the back and left, leaving her alone with all eyes still on her. "Well? Go on girl, take a seat." Garrison waved towards the class, grumbling while turning back towards the chalkboard. "Like I needed another little shit in this class." Her nose crinkled at his last comment, and she looked back towards the class. The spare seat she'd seen near the kid with the blue hat was now taken, and a seat next to Kenny was free. She couldn't help the small smile as she moved towards the desk. She wasn't sure why the shift had happened, but she was glad that she could sit with people she'd already met. She could feel the eyes of the class following her as she sat down and placed her books down on the table. She shifted nervously, innately aware that nearly every eye in the class was still focused intently on her.

"Christ, it's like none of you have ever seen a person before." Garrison whacked a ruler against his desk, jerking the class out of their staring. She relaxed, grateful to have the attention moved away. They mustn't get many new students if this was their reaction.

Kenny caught her eye and whispered something. After a moment of panic, she smiled and gave a small nod as a response, unsure of what he had said. She hoped it was an appropriate reply, considering what he had just done for her. He seemed to be pleased, happily doodling on the paper in front of him. Looking back at the board, she caught Cartman glaring at her from his desk. A couple other kids were also staring still, but she avoided eye contact and tried to pay attention to the board. The short impression she had of Mr. Garrison didn't make her think he'd be a kind marker.

* * *

The hours passed slowly. Garrison taught absolutely nothing that day, unless you counted telling them all what had happened on the latest season of the bachelor – which she didn't. Kenny either drew on his paper or glanced over at her, occasionally mumbling something unintelligible. The rest of the class would sometimes turn to stare for a bit, but she was already learning to ignore the unwanted attention. Every so often Mr. Garrison would snap at a class member – and if it was Cartman, a fight would ensue. When the bell rang for lunch, she was a mixture of relieved and nervous. Slowly she packed her books, suddenly very aware that she was about to be in an even bigger room with more students. If a room that large had the same reaction this one just did, she was going to puke.

She noticed Kyle and Kenny talking at their desks, and Stan and Cartman were hanging by the door. The rest of the kids were piling out, and she'd figured she'd milked the packing up process as long as she could. Awkwardly she got up from her desk, brushing her hair behind her ear and trying to figure out how to avoid the next hour. Eating her lunch in the toilet on the first day wasn't exactly desirable, but she was considering it over having to sit with a bunch of new people.

"Hey, Cooper," Kyle spoke, surprising her out of her reverie. "Kenny said he asked you to sit at our table for lunch?"

She spun back to face him. He was distractedly packing his books, and Kenny seemed to be smiling - from what she could see of his face – and impatiently bouncing on the balls of his feet. She could already hear Cartman groaning in the doorway, cursing Kenny in as many different ways possible. "Oh.. yeah, thanks." Even if she had to put up with Cartman being shitty the whole time, actually being invited to a table was a lot better than any of the other alternatives.

Kyle and Kenny walked over to the door, forcing her to come face to face with Cartman. "Great. Now she's on our damn table. What, are you going to pee with us next?" He turned to Kenny, waggling his fat finger at him. "You're a mother-fucking traitor."

Kenny mumbled something back, and the other two boys laughed while Cartman continued to seethe. They led her to the cafeteria; well, Stan and Cartman led, and seemed to be walking as fast as possible, while Kenny and Kyle talked between themselves with her. They were nice enough - at the very least, they weren't physically repulsed like the other two seemed to be.

They collected their lunches, and sat on a table near the middle of the cafeteria. A few other boys were already sitting there – the kid in the blue hat, a dark-skinned boy with a purple shirt, another boy in a red jacket and two messy haired blonde boys. Kenny motioned for her to sit next to him, which was a seat between him and Stan. She could see Stan physically tense up as she took her seat.

The boys talked between themselves, and every so often one of them would introduce themselves. She learnt the blue hat kid was called Craig, the purple shirt was Token, red jacket was a kid called Clyde and the two blonde boys were Butters and Tweak. They all seemed fairly nice and normal, apart from Tweak who was constantly shaking. She tried to focus on Kenny every time he spoke, determined to be able to understand the muffled-speak most of the school seemed to understand. Considering how nice he had been to her so far, the urgency to understand him had risen. Eventually, a smile and a nod weren't going to be good enough. He didn't speak much, but after a while, she was managing to pick one or two words out of the sentences. Mostly they were either fuck or some other sort of obscenity – but it was a start.

About halfway through the lunch, Kyle spoke directly to her. She'd been focusing so hard on trying to pay attention to Kenny talking without looking like she was that Kyles voice nearly made her spill her drink. Most the boys laughed – the loudest being Cartman, followed by a few insults. "Cooper, is your last name Thompson? My mom reckons we're having you over tonight." She nodded awkwardly. She'd nearly forgotten she had dinner with her neighbours tonight. Kyles last name must be Broflovski, which meant she'd be having dinner with both his and Stans family. The way this lunch had gone, she was glad that it wasn't going to be just her and Stan.

Kenny said something, and she was proud that she managed to catch the last part. " – dinner with her tonight?"

Kyle nodded, "Yeah, man. You're gonna be there too Stan, right?"

Stan choked on his food. "W-what? Why?"

"… My mom said you were."

Stan got up from the table, and rushed off mumbling some excuse about needing to go to the toilet. Kyle looked confused, and followed after Stan soon after.

"Fucking gaywads." Craig laughed, which caused the rest of the boys to giggle. They spent the rest of the time paying out Stan and Kyle - mostly insinuating a homosexual relationship between them - or ripping into Cartman. She gathered that Craig didn't like the four boys very much, despite his apparent friendship with them.


	5. Chapter 5

The dinner was unbelievably awkward. Her mother had made her wear a short, fancy dress and they'd turned up about twenty minutes earlier than expected. The three families had sat around the table with the adults talking happily, while the kids sat at the end in near silence. Kyle had a little brother called Ike who would occasionally talk to one of the two boys, but apart from that, Kyle and Stan talked in low whispers between themselves. Stan hadn't looked at her once the entire night, and she was convinced that he thoroughly disliked her.

Kyles parents were the closest thing she'd ever seen to the classic Jewish stereotype, and Stans father Randy seemed extremely stupid, but her parents got along with them well. Her mother and Randy had been drinking together all night, and would frequently yell across the table at their kids.

The fabric of the dress started to make her itch. It was a short, satin night-dress looking thing that her mother thought made her look mature, but Cooper was never quite comfortable in it. She felt over-dressed and would have much rather been in her overalls or jeans. The fact that the two boys seemed intent on ignoring her only made her feel more uncomfortable. She needed to leave the table and put some distance between her and Stan. Kyle was nice enough - at least, he had been at school - but she'd never been blatantly ignored like Stan was doing. Even Cartman's open hate was better than this; at least she knew where she stood with him. Cooper excused herself from the table, and tried to ignore the whispered conversation Stan and Kyle started when she left. Kyles mother had shown them the way to the bathroom when they first arrived, but she was having trouble remembering exactly which door it was in the long hallway. After a few failed attempts, she finally found the bathroom.

Immediately she rushed to the window and opened it wide. The air was freezing, but it felt good against her skin. She turned around to splash her face with water from the tap and then turned back to the cool air. She leaned out the window as far as she could, trying to cool down as much of her body as possible. Dessert was being served next, and then there would probably be another hour here after that before she could go home.

She was just about to close the window when she saw something move in the shadows of the backyard. She'd seen a flash of silver against the misty blackness that shrouded the yard. Mortified that someone may have just seen her having a mini-freak out, she quickly stuck her head back out again, trying to catch a glance of whatever was out there. She stood like that for a few minutes, but ended up deciding that she'd imagined the movement. Nothing had moved in a while, and she was realizing how long she'd spent in the bathroom. The only thing that could make this night worse was if everyone downstairs thought she was taking a shit.

When she got back downstairs, dessert had been served. As she sat down, the two boys abruptly stopped their conversation and went back to eating quietly. She noticed the change in atmosphere, and apparently, so did Kyles mother.

"You two boys are being extremely rude!" She shrieked, smacking Kyle on the back of the head.

"What happened?" Stans mother asked, glancing up from her meal.

"Our two boys have been disrespectful to this young girl all night! I haven't heard one of you say a single word to her, and I don't think your Stan has even looked at her!" Sheilas face had started to go slightly pink in her anger, reminding Cooper of Cartman. Coopers face was starting to glow pink as well – but in embarrassment. She'd rather have sat through the next hour silently than have it brought to public attention that the two boys were ignoring her. "I'm extremely disappointed in both of you! She is a new neighbour and you both have the responsibility to be kind to her!" Sheila's rant ended when she got up from the table, removing both the boys barely started desserts before storming to the kitchen.

Stans father was the next to speak. "I'sse true Stan? Have you nawt been making frwends properly?" His words were slurred, and he stopped frequently between words to take another sip from his glass. Stan started to stutter out a reply, but Sheilas return cut him off.

"Your two friends have been hanging outside the front for the last half hour, Kyle. I think you two boys should leave and spend some time with them, AND take Cooper with you. I expect that you will make her feel welcome to the neighbourhood and your little group."

The blush on Coopers cheeks had grown darker. Great, now Stan was going to be forced to hang out with her. That was a great way to make friends. Kyle got up quickly, tugging at Stans sleeve. They moved around the table to the door while Cooper stayed in her seat, staring intently at her dessert. Perhaps if she focused hard enough, a hole would open up in the floor and swallow her whole. Cooper could feel the warmness on her cheeks grow as silence hung in the air. "Go on darling," Shelia prodded. Cooper awkwardly rose from the table, clutching her coat. Kyle shot her a small smile as they all rushed out the door.

* * *

They stood at other side of his front door in silence, watching as Kenny and Cartman made their way over from Cartmans yard. Cooper had pulled her coat on, hoping to cover as much skin as possible. It was freezing outside, and her mother hadn't let her wear a particularly suitable dress. Stan was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground, and Kyle was glaring at him angrily.

Kenny positioned himself next to her, and Cartman shot her a dirty look as they got to them. "Why is she here?"

"My mum sent us all out to hang with you two because _someone_ can't stop acting like a fucking retard." Kyle retaliated, punching Stan in the arm. "I liked that dessert, you shit head."

"Fuck off!" Stan murmured, annoyed. "It's not my fault!"

"It is so your fault!" Kyle said, exasperated. "Just fucking look at her and get it over with!" Cooper looked over at Kenny. Kenny was already looking at her, and his eyes scrunched up like he was smiling when she caught his eye. He didn't seem bothered by Stans and Kyles interaction, so he probably already knew what they were talking about. She however, was entirely lost.

"Uh – what are you two talking about?" She sighed, sick of being the only one not in the loop. "I mean, I exist. I'm right here."

Kyle shot her an apologetic glance before glaring back at Stan. "Look, if you do it now, there's less chance that Wendy will ever find out. Do you really want the first time it happens to be at school?"

Stans head still hung low, but he tensed up, looking like he was readying himself for something. Cooper found herself moving closer to Kenny, glancing around at the other boys, trying to figure out what was about to happen.

"Fine." Stans voice came out almost like a growl. He looked up at her, and gagged once, and twice, and then vomit sprayed from his mouth. It would've hit her right in the face if Kenny hadn't grabbed the arm that was brushing against his and pulled her out of the way. His reflexes were either much better than hers, or he knew what was coming. Stan looked back up at her, and retched once again, the vomit staining the snow an ugly brown colour.

"Jesus-tap-dancing-christ!" She groaned, turning to Kenny, whose hand was still gripping her arm. She could no longer see the vomit, but she could still hear the sounds of his body in the quiet night.

Kenny was easier to understand in the near silence. "He's a fucking retard. He'll finish up soon." He glanced down at her arm and let go, sheepishly looking at her before staring down at the snow.

Soon the sounds of Stan vomiting died down, and they all stood around the pile of puke in a circle. When she thought it was safe to look up, she found Stan staring straight at her, with a smile on his face. "I told you man. You just had to get it all out at once." Kyle said, smugly.

"Is no one going explain what just happened?" She exclaimed, annoyed at how long they'd dragged out answering her. Was the mere sight of her enough to make someone literally projectile vomit? She hadn't been sure about wearing the dress, but man, she couldn't have looked that bad.

Stans happy grin quickly turned to embarrassment, and the other three boys sniggered. Cartman took the lead in the explanation. "Stan can't look at a girl he's attracted to without vomiting. It's one of his pet quirks, much like his astounding ugliness or homo-erotic relationship with Kyle."

Kyle groaned, "Dude, sick!" while Stan punched Cartman in the arm.

They stood there in silence for a while, all staring down at the vomit between them. It was disgusting, but it sure beat looking up at Stan. She wasn't sure how to respond to learning that he was attracted to her. She'd learned throughout the day that he had a girlfriend, so it didn't really matter either way. Still, she wanted the blush in her cheeks to fade more before she looked up. Kyle soon broke the silence. "Kenny… how much would I have to pay you to eat a handful of this?"

"How much do you have?"


	6. Chapter 6

He'd spent the last four hours fighting off the urge to go to her house. He'd flicked through all of his playboys, tried to hang out with Kyle and Stan – hell, he'd even tried to spend time with Cartman. But nothing had stopped her running through his head.

It irritated him beyond belief. Cartman was right – Kenny was attracted to pretty much anything with tits and an ass. He'd probably fantasized about having sex with nearly every girl he'd met. It was an enjoyable way to pass the time, and with the constant shittiness of his life, he wasn't going to deny himself a simple pleasure.

She'd only been in town for just under a few weeks. He knew she was attractive; Stan couldn't look at her for the first two days she was in town without vomiting, so he knew Stan agreed with him. Kyle, he was unsure about. Kyle and her were good friends, so he'd never really picked up on any attraction between them. Cartman probably would've been attracted to her if he hadn't hated her mere presence so much. Maybe it was just because she was new. It wasn't like there was a huge turnover of girls in this town.

She was kind of his friend – at least, she hung out with Kyle and Stan most of the time and that was what him and Cartman did too. That counts as friendship, right? Whenever they all hung out, he'd steal glances at her, and it was those images that kept playing through his head. Like when she sat next to him in class wearing a skirt, and it slid up her thigh. Or when she got off the bus in front of him, and he got a good view of her ass in the skinny jeans she wore. Or the way her black hair brushes gently on her shoulders, framing her face and her small, plump lips – "Shit." He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the daydream, and found himself staring over at his Mysterion costume.

He still wore it every so often. None of the other boys played superheros anymore, but none of them had actual powers. Cartman was the only one that still dabbled in his previous persona - but the Coon never gained as much attention as Cartman wanted, so it was usually a short lived revival. Kenny would wear his whenever his parents needed to be put in their place, or if he had a particularly bad day, and didn't feel like being himself any longer. The most he ever wore it was when he tried learning more about the Cult, but that was usually pretty hush hush. It's not like the cult could file a police report. Apart from that, he never did anything too spectacular – if news got out about him again, his friends would definitely remember Mysterion. He knew they weren't nine anymore, and finding out that he still wore it would be the perfect excuse to rip into him.

He toyed with the idea in his head. He probably could sneak over to her house without being seen in it. The costume was a safety net – if she was awake, or saw him, at least his identity would be hidden. After deliberating for a couple of minutes, he quickly changed. He had to get her out of his head somehow, and giving in to his cravings was the easiest and quickest way.

He snuck past the rest of the boys' houses without an incident. He figured it would be okay – it was around two in the morning, so most normal people would be asleep. It wasn't until he was staring up at her window that he realised how creepy his behaviour was. It was hard to find the effort to care. He'd always been one to give in to his desires, and no-one really paid enough attention to him for him to care what they thought.

The tree next to her window seemed like the best bet to get up there. He could see that her window was slightly ajar. In the back of his mind, he noted that it was kind of weird for it to be open. It was fucking freezing outside, so he couldn't imagine that she would have it like that on purpose.

Climbing up the tree was easy. He was better at doing that kind of stuff in the Mysterion costume. It was probably some weird sort of mind-confidence-self identity shit. In any case, he was quickly up on the branch that lead to her window. He nudged the window with his hand and it swung open, creaking as it went. Each creak sent shivers down his spine – if she woke up, even with the costume, this would probably be the most humiliating thing that ever happened to him.

He waited a few seconds to make sure she hadn't woken up, and then hopped up to the windowsill. The moon was bright that night, and it shone through behind him, illuminating her face and body, and for a moment, he almost forgot that he was dressed as Mysterion at two in the morning on her windowsill. The blankets were resting on her hips, and she was curled up on the bed, cuddling a pillow. He was suddenly aware that visiting her was going to do nothing to get her out of his head. He couldn't help the small moan that escaped his lips. He was mesmerized by her – so when he heard a crash downstairs, he fell off the sill in shock.

"Fucking goddammit-shit." He whispered, jumping up and getting back out the window as fast as he possibly could. His heart was racing, and he could hear her stirring in bed already. His ears strained, trying to hear what was happening downstairs. Something was down there. The initial crash had sounded like a window breaking, and suddenly he was filled with the urge to protect her. He was sure that he wasn't the only visitor in her house that night. Embarrassment fought against courage as he heard footsteps coming to the window, and he shrunk into the trees shadows.

* * *

"- Shit."

She stirred out of sleep. Peeking her eyes open, she saw that it was still the middle of the night. She could only have slept for a few hours. Something had woken her, but now that she was awake, she couldn't quite remember what it was. Slowly she moved so she was sitting up in her bed. These late night wakeups had happened almost every night this week. It would take her ages to get back to sleep, so she'd be tired again tomorrow. The last couple of weeks in South Park had been slightly better than she expected, but between her parents and the ridiculous homework Garrison would give, she'd barely gotten any sleep.

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and blinked a few times. Her eyes were still adjusting to the inky blackness. Glancing around her room, she saw the open window. She was notoriously bad at leaving it open. She'd climbed onto the roof that night, and must've forgotten _again_ to close it on the way in.

While padding over to the window, she heard rustling in the tree that was nearby. She moved quicker, hoping to catch a glance of whatever was in there. The memories all rushed to her at once – she'd woken up because she heard something land in her room. Something had jumped in through the window; but thankfully, it seemed to have jumped back out again. She leant out the window, stretching her torso out as much as she could so she could see the tree properly. Something did seem to be sitting in the dense branches.

She blinked a few more times. Her eyes mustn't have adjusted properly. The shape in the tree looked much larger than the squirrel or possum she'd been expecting. It looked as big as a human.

She was suddenly reminded of the dream she'd had on her first night here. The same fear that had gripped her as she'd realised something had exploded was gripping her now. It wasn't something outside her window, it was someone. The sensible part of her was screaming to close the window and run back to bed. However, just like it had in her dream, the reckless part of her overpowered her sensibility. "Who… who's there?" Her voice sounded tiny in the still night. A few more rustles came from the tree.

Silence hung in the air until she became impatient. "I know you're in the tree. Who is it?" Her voice was stronger this time. She suspected Cartman at first – doing something as shit stupid as this would be his sort of a joke - but she wasn't sure the tree would be strong enough to hold his weight.

"Uh… I was just – I wasn't – uh -" Even though she'd known someone was there, the noise still startled her. She had still been holding on to the hope that the lack of sleep was messing with her eyesight. The voice was male, stumbling over an excuse, and gravely. Certainly not Cartman.

"Who are you?" She asked again, trying to sound much braver than she felt.

"I'm… they call me Mysterion. Don't tell anyone my name, please." The voice sounded almost embarrassed. She didn't blame him. Mysterion sounded like a rip-off superhero name.

"Okay… Mysterion." She said, trying to say the name in the least mocking way possible. "Why exactly are you in the tree?"

"I – I, uh – I heard a noise from your house and saw your window was open. I – I was checking if you were alright." He spluttered.

"Well, I'm fine. The only noise I heard was you coming through my window."

"No, really. I heard a noise –" He started. A large smash echoed through her house, cutting him off. Her eyes widened, and she felt her entire body tense up in fear. Immediately he jumped from the shadows of the tree and landed through her window in one spectacular movement. If she wasn't absolutely petrified, she may have felt amused as his appearance. He looked around her age – from his height, at least. He was dressed in what looked like a home-made super hero costume, which only slighlty explained the weird name. His face was obscured by a mask and the darkness, so she couldn't tell who it actually was.

"What – what -" She whispered. She was frozen on the spot.

He turned around and squeezed one of her hands. "I'm going to go check what that was. You stay here, okay?" She felt herself nod meekly, and watched as he crept from her room. Then the silence slowly grew longer, and she began to rationalize the events. She'd basically let a complete stranger wander around her house in the middle of the night simply because she'd heard a bang. She scolded herself and walked out of her room. For all she knew, he could have been part of some convoluted plan to steal her belongings. That would certainly be a more likely scenario than a superhero teenager watching over her house.

She was about to reach for the phone when she heard a crash from downstairs. It sounded like a fight was breaking out, and without a second thought, she rushed towards it. It was either Mysterion or one of her parents fighting down there – or maybe both. Halfway down the stairs, she yelled for her dad.

She burst down the stairs and found the most ridiculous scene she'd ever witnessed. Mysterion was fighting with two ninjas, swinging the wooden lamp her parents owned as a sword. She gasped out of pure shock, backing up the last few stairs. She didn't know what she was expecting down there, but two ninjas certainly wasn't it. They looked legit too; dressed in all black with katanas and what looked like nun-chucks.

"We. Are. City. Ninjas." One of the ninjas spat, swinging their blade between each word. "No one can beat city ninjas." Mysterion was fighting back, but the wooden lamp was breaking with each blow. She glanced around the room and saw the fire-poker near her. She grabbed the poker and started to make her way across the room. She'd barely gone two steps before Mysterion glanced over at her and shouted. "No! Stay out of this!"

Cooper stopped in her tracks. He needed her help – he was outnumbered and out-weaponed. But the expression on his face – that she could see – was enough to tell her that if she got anywhere near, he'd move her away at any cost. She bit her lip as small, frustrated tears fell from her eyes.

Mysterion ducked under the swing of one of the blades and hit the ninja in the back with the lamp. He immediately stole the sword from the body and started fighting with the other ninja. The body on the floor woke up quickly, and pulled out his nun-chucks. Mysterion knocked one down and turned to watch the other rush to him, ready to choke Mysterion with the chain of his weapon. The one that was just knocked down had already gotten back up, and was rushing towards him with his katana pointed straight at him. He pointed the stolen sword up and turned his head to face her for a second before the two ninjas ran into him. In a spilt-second, they were a mess of blood and bodies, and she was screaming.

"Goddamit!" He roared. The sword from the first ninja had gone all the way through Mysterion and killed the second ninja, while the first had been stuck by Mysterion's blade. It had been a smart, albeit suicidal, plan. She'd never seen anyone die before. Even if she had, this probably would still be scarring.

Finally, her parents burst down the stairs. She'd already rushed over to the pile, and was desperately trying to pull bodies off of him. Her tears fell freely now. Mysterion was still alive, but just barely. He coughed up some blood, spluttering, "This… really fucking hurts."

She touched his cheek, crying harder than she thought possible. "I - I – I…" She stammered, unable to find words to comfort him. She saw his eyes fade as her dad pulled her away from his body, yelling words she couldn't hear.


	7. Chapter 7

Considering how traumatic the night before was, she was reasonably indignant when her parents pushed her out the door to go to school. She'd fought with them, begging to stay home at least one day. She wasn't ready to see the world after last night. Her mother had the final word, saying, "A death is no reason to miss a day of school, young lady," just before slamming the door in her face.

She waited at the bus stop, turning the events of the night over in her head. Remembering details was getting hard – almost like the night was sand slipping through her fingers. She clung to the memory of Mysterion as hard as she could. Her parents had denied he was even there this morning, which had nearly brought her to tears. They were under the impression the ninjas had performed some sort of suicidal ritual – a fact which the news was reporting. It was enough to drive a person mad. She _hadn't_ imagined him. The look on his face as his life left him _wasn't_ imaginary.

Soon enough the boys turned up, chattering away like usual. For once Cartman seemed happy – or at least, excited – to see her. "Is it true? Did ninjas _ACTUALLY_ kill themselves in your lounge room?" She should've expected that sort of stuff would bring him joy.

Kyle and Stan looked at her eagerly. They wanted to know too; they just didn't want to be as blatant as Cartman. Kenny was the only one that seemed disinterested. His hood draw-strings were pulled tight, and he was kicking the snow at his feet angrily. She sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to get through the day without telling them. "Yes." She muttered. "They _died_ in my lounge room. But it wasn't some sort of suicidal-shit like the news is saying." She saw Kenny's head perk a little, and he pulled his hood a little looser.

"Oh yeah, how else did they die then, huh? Just fell dead from your parents terrible decorating?" Cartman prodded, cackling. "That is so cool dude, as if _NINJAS_ are –"

She cut him off. "Someone killed them." The words were said defiantly, but she knew they weren't convincing.

"Who?" Stan asked.

"Some... some guy."

"Some guy? Seriously? You're telling us that ninjas broke into your house, but were killed by a guy that ALSO broke in? Where'd he go after he murdered some ninjas?"

"You've got to admit, it's not really that believable." Stan agreed.

"I don't care it's not believable! It happened!" She snapped, annoyed. "His name was –" She just managed to stop herself before she finished the sentence. He'd specifically asked her not to tell anyone. She wasn't sure if that meant in death as well, but it was the least she could do. "… it doesn't matter. But it was real. _He_ was." She looked at their expressions, and knew that they weren't taking her seriously. Cartman was nearly pissing himself laughing. She looked over at Kenny, hoping to find at least one face that didn't make her want to punch it. He was staring at her in shock, his eyes wider than saucepans. He must think she's crazy. For some reason, that hurt more than the condescending stares of the other three.

"Wha – what do you think happened?" He whispered, his words barely audible through his hood.

"A guy killed them. _He_ fought them off – I mean, they would have killed us otherwise! He - he…" She found herself choking up, and quickly stopped talking before they noticed. They were all looking at her like she was mad. "I'm not fucking crazy. I'm done talking about this." She grumbled.

"Well guys, I _told_ you this would happen if we let a girl hang around with us. She's lost it. Gone mad. Officially mental." Cartman sniggered. "In order to protect ourselves, we should probably kill her before she kills –"

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman." Kenny snapped. He closed the distance between her and him in seconds. They were almost nose-to-nose. Her eyes glanced sideways over at the faces of Stan and Kyle, both of whom looked as confused as she was.

"Um – Kenny, what're you doing?" She asked, a little sharper than she'd intended. It had been a long night. She was tired. And these boys were becoming increasingly harder to be around.

"I – I –" He muttered, almost like he was trying to think of the right way to say something. "How are you sure someone else was there?"

"Because I fucking saw it, alright?" She groaned. "I _saw – oh Cartman, stop fucking sniggering_ –" She turned on Cartman, the anger rising up and threatening to bubble out. "I swear to god, I will rip those _tiny, little_ , barely-there balls right off –" Over the last month, his hatred of her had softened a bit, and the arguments between them had reduced to only a few a week. He still knew exactly how to shit her off though.

"You wanna throw down, huh?" Cartman squared up after a moment of hesitation. "You wanna go –"

"Shut – _UP_." Kyle groaned. "You're not going to fight her."

Cartman's face flashed with relief, before quickly returning to his usual bitter smirk. "Lucky for you, your _boyfriend_ won't let me fight – I suppose it is for the best, I would've kicked the shit out of you –"

She rolled her eyes. "The only way you'd be able to hurt me is if you managed to fall on me and smother me with your fat ass."

Kenny hadn't moved from in front of her, and was clearly growing more and more impatient as the conversation drew on. He cut in before Cartman could retaliate. " _Cooper_ , so you're sure a guy killed the ninjas last night? You're really sure?"

If she rolled her eyes any more in this wait for the bus, they might just fall out of her head. "Yes, _Kenny_ , I'm sure. Jesus Christ, you really think I'd be going through this interrogation if I wasn't telling the truth?"

His eyes widened, and the stare he stuck on her was so intent she was starting to feel a little uncomfortable again. Luckily for her, the bus swerved around the corner, cutting the interaction off.


	8. Chapter 8

The rest of the day was as torturous as the morning. The kids in her class bugged her all through the morning to tell them about what happened the night before, and considering how badly it had gone with the boys, she hadn't been keen to talk to anyone. Cartman, however, had been extremely happy to talk to everyone about it, and by lunchtime, the majority of the class were asking about the mystery guy or sniggering behind her back. Kyle and Stan were kinder, but she could tell they didn't believe her. Strangely, the reaction that had bugged her most of all had been Kennys. She'd caught him staring at her like she'd lost her mind multiple times during the day; the blue eyes that peeked out from behind his hood were narrowed and piercing. There was something different about his skepticism compared to the other kids; they seemed to find amusement in her apparent lack of sanity, whereas he seemed to look like he was constantly trying to figure out exactly what had gone wrong in her head. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Time dragged on, but eventually, afternoon came. Both her head and feet felt heavy as she trudged off the school bus in front of the boys. She didn't realise that she'd immediately started walking home – usually, she'd hang around with them for at least an hour - until Kyle yelled out to her. "Cooper, where are you going?" He sounded slightly concerned, but he and Cartman had spent the majority of the bus ride home arguing about Jews in the media, so she could detect he was a little pre-occupied with his own issues.

Her feet stopped, the cold snow fighting desperately to sneak into her boots as she tried to articulate what was going on in her head. "I'm just tired. I'll see you guys tomorrow." Even her voice came out drained; she'd be surprised if the words traveled to them louder than a whisper.

"She's going to go make out with her imaginary boy." Cartman sniggered. "Or maybe she's going to go make up a few friends for him."

It was a testament to her absolute weariness with the day that she couldn't even find the energy to snap back at him. She kept moving forward in the snow, almost in a daze, finding herself in front of her door before she knew it. The thick wood couldn't quite block out the noise from inside; her mothers favourite music was jumbled together with the ever-increasing sound of the television. Her hand hovered over the doorknob, unable to break the last few millimetres. Blood pounded in her ears as her hand started to shake more and more. She fought inside herself for a few seconds before turning on her heel with a sob. She just couldn't go in there and pretend like everything was _normal_. She let her feet march off into the snow without any real direction and tried to convince herself that she wasn't crazy. She tried to grasp onto the memory of Mysterion in her head.

She was miles away from her house before she stopped. The forest bordered the town, and she'd managed to get right up to its edge. She'd never gone this far out of town before. She dumped herself on a large rock, and started to brush away the tears that had fallen in her journey. She was sick of being treated like she was mad. Her parents were the worst of them all – they'd seen Mysterion, and they were still pretending like he didn't exist. How on earth do you forget two fucking ninjas kebabing a guy? The blood was still pounding in her ears, even now, miles away from the house, and it felt like Cartman was standing on her chest. She tried to steady her breathing, which was currently coming out rapid and shallow. She put her head between her knees and curled up into a ball. One breath. Two. Three. The glistens of the sun against the snow looked all too much like the light hitting a blade. She squeezed her eyes shut. Four. Five. Mysterions face appeared in her mind. Six. The light faded in his eyes until they were just the blank stare of an empty corpse. Seven. Sobs racked her body.

* * *

She stayed like that until dusk had long since passed, and the cold night had started to make her shiver. She'd tried, and failed, to calm herself and then had just resigned to the weird inner pain she was feeling. At the start of the day, she'd been so sure that what had happened the night before _had_ actually happened. But now, on the cold rock, she was having trouble deciding what was real and what wasn't. Surely the _entire_ town couldn't have just forgotten a kid dying. That left her with one option; she'd made it up. She couldn't imagine why her brain was so fucked up – having imaginary friends and skewering them were two entirely different kinds of crazy – but it was the only logical option. She prided herself on being logical. She hated crying, she hated being so vulnerable. She hated not being in control of her body.

She dragged herself off the rock. She couldn't let herself freeze to death, just because a few screws went missing in her head. That would just make her more pathetic than she already was. Each movement in the growing shadows made her tense as she walked back home. It was absolutely ridiculous that she was scared of ninjas jumping out at her. Each time it made her flinch, she unleashed a barrage of expletives at herself. Ninjas weren't going to get her in the middle of this tiny mountain town. A psychological break was.

When she got home, she'd found a note on her bedroom door from her parents. They'd both gone out with the Marshes; she was invited, but she'd never turned up. They clearly weren't that worried about her whereabouts. She couldn't entirely believe that they would just leave her alone in the house after what had happened the night before – which just added to the theory that it hadn't actually happened. Her parents weren't about to win any parenting award, but she'd assumed even they would have their limits.

She locked herself in her bedroom. She didn't want to spend any time in the rest of the house. She'd be surprised if she could ever sit comfortably in the lounge room again. She felt both numb inside and out, and tried to start fixing at least one of those problems. Her little wander to the edge of town had nearly soaked her clothes through. Had it started snowing while she was out? She pulled on thermal leggings and the biggest, baggiest jumper she owned. It was one of her favourite items of clothing and looking in the mirror, it started to remind her of Kenny. She pulled the drawstrings tight. She'd noticed he did that if he'd gotten upset or scared. Maybe it would help. Her tired eyes were the only things visible through the hoody-hole. Suddenly images of Kenny flashed back to her mind; the eyes that were usually so clear clouded with skepticism. He'd barely even talked to her all day. Ever since her first day, she'd sat next to him in school, and she'd come to expect that they'd pass some sort of derogatory note about Garrison or have a whispered conversation during one of Cartmans many disruptions at some point. She yanked the hood back off her head. How could she blame him for not wanting to talk to her? Who would want to talk to someone that had clearly lost it? She'd spent the whole day sticking to a story that just sounded - and _was_ \- crazy. Some guy in a superhero costume jumped through her window and saved her. _Sure._

She curled herself up on the head of her bed. The alarm clock flashed that it was 10pm – much earlier than she usually went to sleep – but there wasn't exactly much else for her to do. She doubted she'd be getting much sleep anyway. She scrunched her eyes closed and tried to block the rest of the world out.

The world came rushing back when she heard movement in the tree near her window again. Her head snapped up as she realised she hadn't checked if the window was closed when she'd come home. It hung ajar, the perfect entry point for whatever was making all that rustling outside. The movement got louder, and for a split second, she hoped that she was dreaming, but that theory was busted after she pinched herself. The pain was all too real as she realised she'd wasted her chance to rush to the window and close it. Her hand darted to the clock, now flashing 11:30pm, as she tried to convince herself that it was a suitable defense against whatever was out there.

In a blur of motion, Mysterion jumped through her window, landing nimbly in her room. Screaming, she threw the clock as hard as she possibly could at his head, and resigned herself completely to the fact that she had gone mental.


	9. Chapter 9

It hit him right between the eyes, and bounced off, revealing an already forming bruise. "Jesus-fucking-christ, what the hell was that for?" He moaned, bringing a hand to the spot. "I save your life, and you throw a fucking alarm clock at me. _Typical_."

"You're – you're – dead!" The words started off tiny, but grew louder as her mind started to wind back into action. "I saw you die! I saw you fucking die!" She scrambled towards the door, desperate to put as much distance between them as she could. She wriggled the doorknob a few times before she remembered she'd locked it, and of course, glancing back, the key was sitting on her cupboard, right near him. She kept her back flat against the door as she faced him. In her head, she ran through the possibilities. It could be one of the guys playing an extremely unfunny prank on her. Or maybe one of the kids at school that had heard about this through Cartman. But she hadn't told anyone what he'd looked like, or sounded like, and the person standing in front of her was the perfect copy of the boy from last night. Down to every dorky stitch of his superhero costume. That left her with two options – she _really_ was crazy, or somehow, he'd survived. Logic told her which one was probably correct. "I'm… _I'm crazy_. Everyone was right. Last night didn't happen. That's the only reason how you can – can –"

"You're not crazy, alright? Trust me." He cut in, one hand still rubbing the spot on his head that the clock had hit. He almost sounded disinterested, like he was telling a child something obvious that they should already know.

She was gobsmacked. On one hand, the statement eased her a little. After a full day of being treated like a bit of a nut-job, it was comforting to hear someone else tell her that she wasn't crazy. On the other… well, it was less comforting when it was coming from the guy that had sent her mental capabilities into question in the first place.

"Fine, Mr. _Trust-me_ , but what exactly about this situation is evidence towards me being sane? You died. I saw it. _Normal_ people don't usually survive getting stuck through with a sword." She snapped, not appreciating being talked to like she was a child by a figment of her own imagination. With that comment something flickered in his eyes, and he'd closed the distance between them faster than she could react. A yelp escaped her as his arms boxed her between him and the wall.

The space between them had become nearly non-existent. Imaginary or not, this was a breach of personal space. "Do you _mind_?!" She pushed against his chest and discovered she'd have just about as much luck moving a brick wall.

"Who are you and what do you want with me?" He growled.

"What the fuck do you mean, ' _who am I_ '? You're in my house, you idiot! Who are you?" It was harder to believe he wasn't real when he was this close, and this immovable. She started to panic. He felt real.

"Answer me!" He snarled, making her flinch. The smell of cough mixture and alcohol followed his breath and overwhelmed her senses.

"Cooper! Cooper Thompson." She tried to mask her fear. She couldn't understand how this was the same person as she met last night. He'd seemed so protective and kind then, a far cry from the intimidating guy she had in front of her now. What had she done to make him so angry? "And I _want_ you to give me some personal- _fucking_ -space."

He didn't seem to take any notice of what she'd said. "What do you know about Cthulhu?"

Glaring, she pushed against his chest again. What kind of training did this guy do? She was either super weak, or he had more strength than his slim build portrayed. She made a mental note to try and get fitter after this - that was, if she survived.

"Answer the question." He moved closer, growling the reply. His face was _way_ too close to hers. In fact, every part of him was _way_ too close to her. Instinctively, her knee rose up to kick him square in the balls. She wasn't about to take any shit from some kid in a homemade superhero costume. That was not the way she was going to go. Unfortunately, her attempt at injuring him lasted all of about two seconds, as his hand stopped her knee inches before she hit his nads. The force of which he pushed it back down made a lump grow in her throat.

"Don't - don't try that again." He snapped. "I don't want to hurt you. Really. Just answer the question."

She hesitated. She didn't know anything about the word he'd said. She wasn't sure if she'd ever even heard it before. If he didn't believe that she didn't know anything, she might be in trouble. She glanced at the two arms blocking her escape. Fuck it, she was in trouble. "I don't know what a Cthulhu is."

"The cult of Cthulhu. C'mon, stop playing dumb!" She could tell he was losing his patience. "You _have_ to know something. Anything!"

"Honestly, I don't! I'm not into cults, I – I don't know anything about it -" Her eyes started to grow wet, and tears quickly pooled. She didn't even have enough space to reach up and wipe them away.

Something flashed in his eyes as he noticed her tears. A long silence hung in the air as he seemed to deliberate whether she was telling the truth or not. "So you're telling me you have nothing to do with _any_ cults?"

"I swear." His mood seemed to have changed from threatening to more of a grim resignation. Whether that was good or bad... well, she wasn't sure.

"Well… I need to test something then. Is any one else home right now?" He glanced towards her door. "And _don't_ lie to me."

She gave a tiny shake of her head, trying to figure out what he was about to do.

"Good. What about any cameras? Nothings running, is it?"

Another shake.

"Okay. Good." He lowered his arms, moving a few inches away. She immediately let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in. "I need to see if you remember." The last statement came out as almost a mumble, and she barely just caught it.

"Remember? Remember what?"

"This." He finally backed away completely, moving towards the centre of the room. He didn't break eye contact once, and slowly reached behind him to bring out a gun. Her breath hitched immediately. Quickly, she ran through escape plans in her head. The door - locked, so thats a no go. That only left the window or trying to fight him off... both of which seemed pretty hopeless.

"I – I need to know -." With that last remark, his arm swung up and his finger pulled the trigger, splattering his brains all across her bedroom.


	10. Chapter 10

Her eyes strained to shut. She could feel the tiredness like a living thing inside her chest, slowly but surely draining the energy from her body. Everything seemed to be moving at a slower pace, filtered by a hazy fog across her vision. She knew that her body was yearning for sleep. But every time she closed her eyes... the scene played out again.

She sat at the end of her bed, knees curled under her chin, staring at the opposite wall. She'd been in this position for hours. Her muscles cramped against it, but she felt as if she had no energy left to move. She'd been awake since yesterday morning. It felt so long ago now, yet she knew it was only about 48 hours. Her exhaustion wasn't only due to a lack of sleep.

Blink.

Blood splattered across the wall.

Blink.

Brain matter across her bedspread.

She glanced down at the bed. Clean. Wall. Clean.

But she hadn't cleaned. The moment she'd been able to process what had happened, she'd sprinted to the key and out her door. From there it was foggy. She remembered falling to the floor and the feeling of breath catching in her throat. The world had felt like it was spinning much faster than usual, blurring around her.

When she'd been able to regain rational thought and a steady rhythm of breathing, she'd picked herself off the ground. It could've been hours or mere minutes since it happened. She couldn't tell. All she knew was that her parents hadn't come home yet.

She hadn't wanted to look back at the scene, not really, but her eyes had glanced back before she'd been able to stop them. It was the same urge that makes you look at a car crash as you drive past.

But there was nothing there. It was clean. He was gone.

Really, that had shocked her nearly as much as the actual event. She'd stumbled back in the room, searching for any sign of him. But it was empty, and the only sign of movement apart from herself was the darting shape of a rat disappearing out her window.

Now, her eyes stole a glance backwards, to the centre of the room. Spotless. It nearly looked cleaner than before he'd died.

But had he died? She didn't think it was possible to fake a death that realistically - but it also didn't seem possible that the whole mess had magically disappeared.

She forced her heavy eyes back to the wall. Her brain power was impeded by a lack of sleep, but she didn't think she'd even be able to figure out the situation with a fully functioning brain. There was only one thing she'd felt certain of. That wasn't going to be the last she'd see of him.

* * *

And sure enough, hours later, he was back. She'd actually managed to fall asleep, even if it was only light and due to exhaustion, and was filled with guns and blood and nightmares she couldn't tell from real life. It was sleep and she found herself grateful for the respite. But all too soon, the tapping pulled her from it.

Tap tap.

She tried her hardest to not look towards the window. She'd locked it for a reason.

Tap tap.

She shifted slightly. She'd fallen asleep still sitting in the same position as before. The cramps had disappeared and were replaced with a dull ache, a sign that her body had resigned to staying this way.

"C'mon Cooper, let me in!" A muffled voice replaced the taps. "What's wrong? Can you move?"

He's not really there, she reminded herself. You can just ignore him and he'll go away. If he goes away, you can go back to being normal again, and the kids at school won't laugh, and Kyle and Stan won't think you're crazy, and Kenny won't look at you like that again. So just ignore him.

"Cooper, are you okay? What's happened?!"

Her eyes twitched backwards. As much as she didn't want it to, her resolve was slowly melting. Why would she be imagining him? Why was he suddenly so worried about her? His persistence in her life was infuriating and made no sense. None of this made sense. She buried her head in her knees and tried to think about anything else other than the masked guy at her window.

It took her a little while to notice the noises had stopped. No more tapping, no talking. She raised her head and felt a bitter sense of pride. She'd done it. Now she knew what to do, she could handle this. Just ignore him. Easy.

She slowly started moving her body out of the curled position, noticing every crack as the bones were allowed to sit back in their normal places. She twisted to see the window, ready to bask in her tiny triumph. All she had to do now was -

 _Crash_.

* * *

Authors note: Hey, I **hate** these in stories so I'll keep it short. Sorry ( _again_ ) for the giant break in updates. Life's a lot. Kudos to anyone that actually comes back to read this chapter! I'm trying to get back into updating regularly, but I'm just a gal in uni with no formal writing experience that expects herself to write published-novel worthy chapters. Basically, I'm a perfectionist and hate nearly everything I write, so I've got a bunch of chapters built up that I'm constantly re-writing. Anyway, sorry again, and hopefully I'll be less shit from now on.


	11. Chapter 11

She managed to see the exact moment the large rock had hit the pane. The glass shattered on the floor, speckling tiny pieces and huge shards nearly to the end of her bed. Before she could react, he'd already managed to stick his arm through the hole and unlock the window himself.

Rage, shock and sheer confusion spun around in her gut. He'd broken her fucking window.

He pushed the window open and gingerly stepped inside, careful to dodge the larger pieces of glass that he had created. "Are you okay?" His voice sounded concerned, but that tone quickly lessened when he noticed the look on her face.

"You broke. My window." She spluttered.

"You wouldn't let me in." He countered, glancing guiltily at the broken shards littering the floor. "I said I was gonna do it. I thought you could've been tied up, or paralysed, or trapped.. "

"Ever think there was another reason I didn't want to let you in?" She stared at the broken glass on the floor. While she was boiling with rage that he'd actually broken it, he'd also interacted with something that wasn't her. Something she knew was real before this. If the glass was still there later, she might be able to finally figure out whether he was actually real.

"I'm not sure.." His tone changed dramatically and he narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you tell me?"

She wasn't often lost for words. She prided herself on a quick - or at least faster than normal - wit. But everything about this boy just confounded her. She was always a step behind him, never knowing his next move, or what kind of mood he'd turn up in. Conspiracies and self-doubt and half-baked ideas spun around in her head as she tried to formulate some sort of coherent sentence. But the silence dragged on, and he kept staring at her - waiting, clearly waiting for something - and it all got too much. She turned back around, yanked the blankets over her head and cocooned.

"... Are you okay?" There it was again. The same voice that had told her to stay in her bedroom. The voice that sounded so genuine.

"M'fine." She mumbled through the quilt. "Great."

"And that's why you're trying to turn into a human burrito?" He sniggered. She heard his footsteps lightly move towards the bed, and then the blankets were being tugged away from her.

"Stop it." She yanked them back.

He sighed, and he must've got on the bed because the mattress slightly tilted and she found herself able to feel his side against hers.

"Can you not -" She started.

"Just let me talk." He cut in quickly. "I'm gonna apologise. I did some research and I'm like... ninety per cent sure you're not part of the cult. And that means I probably scared you last night. So I'm sorry for that."

She made a small noise, halfway between agreement and annoyance. Sorry didn't begin to cut it.

"And that also means you don't understand why I keep coming back, doesn't it?"

"Uh-huh." She was torn. She wanted to be mad at him. She wanted to yell and scream and kick him out of her house. But she was curious. Really curious. And how likely was he to explain anything when she was screaming abuse? "Are you some sort of undead stalker?"

He snorted. "I mean, it's not inaccurate."

She tensed up. "You stalk me?"

"I'm undead. Jesus. I'm not _quite_ at the stalker level yet, am I?"

"You're what!?" She sprang out of her cocoon in shock. It was a joke. She wasn't sure what she'd expected him to say to explain the last few days, but her mind immediately recoiled at the idea that he could be undead. That wasn't possible.

He stared at her, eyes wide, then snorted in a little fit of laughter. "I can't die. I mean, you have picked up on that, haven't you?"

"Well - well, yes, but I thought you were just playing some sort of prank, or I was imagining you, or -"

" - imagining _me_?" He furrowed his brow. "Geez, you'd think you could imagine someone a bit better than me."

"Well, I don't know! But you _can't_ be undead. That's like, ... a zombie. And zombies _aren't_ real."

"It's not the same as being a zombie. Trust me, I've been one of 'em, and it's different." He rolled his eyes, acting like this was all very normal day-to-day conversation. "I can still die. I just don't stay dead."

"That's what a zombie is." She snapped. "That's literally the line they put on the back of every zombie movie."

He put his head in his hands, shaking it slightly. "I'm not - I'm not arguing about this with you -"

"Yeah. Because you're wrong." She cut in this time, taking a little delight in the annoyed glare she got back from him. Finally, she was getting the upper hand. She was annoying him. Now all she had to do was figure out where he lived and go break a window there.

" _Wow._ Anyway, like I was saying, I can't die. And you remember me dying, don't you?" His words came more carefully at the end of the sentence, like it was the part of the sentence that was important. Y'know, instead of his apparent ability to be undead.

"Obviously." She furrowed her brow.

"See - see that - _that_ is the good part." She could see his face light up instantly, and he moved a bit closer to her. He looked just like a kid that was told he could have any toy in the store. "So how'd I die last night?"

It was the mixture of his obvious, uncontainable delight and her determination to get straight answers that allowed her to answer the question like it was a reasonable one. "You shot yourself." She pointed to the centre of the room. "Right there. And it was disgusting, by the way."

He jumped off the bed in delight, and let out such a joyful cheer that she almost felt the urge to smile with him. "You remember! Someone actually fucking remembers!" He seemed to have forgotten to keep up the hoarse growl to his voice, and he suddenly sounded very much like a normal teenage boy. Figures that it wasn't his real voice.

He scooted back on the bed and grabbed her head in his hands. His touch was soft and gentle, and while she knew she should feel threatened by the closeness now, she didn't. "Say it again. C'mon, please, just one more time. You remember."

"I remember." She echoed. His face was so close to hers that she could finally get a good look at him - or, at least, the parts of him not covered by his mask. That really only left his eyes, and there was something very familiar about them...

"Why is it such a big deal that I - wait, _Kenny_?"


	12. Chapter 12

She couldn't hear the replies that went with his shocked expression. A loud thudding had started in her ears, as the anger spread right down to the tips of her toes and then threatened to bubble out. Those eyes... they were Kenny's. There was only one feature of that boy she could see through his usual hood, and they were hard to miss.

"W- what? No – no, I'm not Kenny –" He'd pulled the gravelly voice back, trying to save face. Suddenly he'd moved away from her, face turned to obscure her view.

"Yes, yes you are!" She was sure of it now. He'd started to go red, and she'd seen the quick movement of his hands, a knee-jerk reaction, reaching to pull jacket strings that weren't there. "What - what the actual fuck?" She moved closer, looking at him properly. It was Kenny. Kenny was the one that had done all this to her.

"No – I'm not him, I swear –"

"Stop lying to me! You are! Jesus Kenny, I've seen you every single day for the last few weeks! I'm able to recognise you!" She swung her legs out of her bed, storming to the other side of the room. What, did he think she was an idiot? Put on some half-assed budget mask and suddenly he'd be unrecognisable?

She could see the panic in his eyes and the cogs turning in his head as the silence grew ever longer. "Admit it or I'm yanking that god damn mask off your head. Admit it!"

"... Okay, fine. It's me."

Even though she knew it was him, even though she'd yelled at him to say it - as soon as he said the words, her heart dropped. When he'd just been some possibly imaginary, unknown guy, he was shitty, but Jesus Christ - she'd barely just started to believe he was real. She tried to resist the urge to pick up something heavy and throw it at him. Again. Instead, she picked out a stuffed toy from the box nearby and pelted it at him. "What.. what the fuck was yesterday about? Pinning me against the wall? Threatening me?!"

"It was an interrogation technique." He admitted, one hand raising to block any more possible projectiles. "I saw something like it online... some guys were doing it in one of those make-believe army drills, and I thought that it would get information - but that was when I thought you were part of the cult! I don't anymore!"

"You used an _army_ _interrogation_ technique on me?" She spluttered. "Where the fuck do you get off trying to intimidate me? And - and what about the shot in the head?"

"Well, I needed to die somehow. A bullet to the brain is relatively painless." It was said matter-of-fact, like it was common knowledge and perfectly normal.

" _Painless_?!"

"Compared to like, a stab in the chest, yeah. You don't have to bother going through the whole process of bleeding out - and if you get it in just the right spot -" He cut himself off as he noticed the dumbstruck look she was giving him. She wasn't crazy. He was.

"Do you even understand that all I've been able to see when I close my eyes since then is the image of your fucking brains splattered across my room?!" She picked up another toy, but he managed to pull his cape across as a shield before it hit him. That took all the fun outta it. She picked up a few more and threw them harder.

"You weren't this mad when you didn't know it was me." He grumbled, dodging the barrage of stuffed animals.

"Yeah, well, that's different -" She faltered, her next soft missile gripped tightly in her hand.

"How?"

"... Because you were meant to be my friend, Kenny! Friends don't - they don't - well _Jesus_ _Christ_ , they don't kill themselves in front of you!" She threw the toy at the ground violently, suddenly not in the mood to continue looking at him.

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud. He shifted uncomfortably on the other side of the room, finally at a loss for words. So was she.

"Y'know what? Just leave." She snapped, trying to mask how upset she was. An instinctual part of her brain had taken over - the part that always did when she was hurt - and it knew the easiest thing to do was to shut down. Shut him out. Get out of the situation. Not once in her life had explaining her hurt worked out for her, and she couldn't see how this was any sort of exception.

"Cooper, I just wanted to find out if you remember -" He started towards her, and instinctively she moved back.

"I don't care. I don't." She muttered, trying to keep eye contact and her voice steady. _Get_ _him_ _out_. _Get_ _him_ _out_.

"I don't want to leave, _please,_ just let me explain. You don't understand how important it is that you remember." He pleaded, remorse appearing in his eyes. "I shouldn't have scared you! I know that!"

She knew if she spoke her voice would waver, so she kept all her energy in trying to block any weakness in her face. She couldn't reconcile the two identities of Kenny. He'd been the first kid in town that she thought was genuinely nice to her. He was the first to invite her to lunch. First to ask her to hang out after school. Now all she could think of was the fear she felt last night. Was this all some sort of sick game to him? Let's go scare the new girl!

He'd started towards her again, and this time, noticed the instinctual movement backward. The pain that flashed across his face made a pang in her chest and she reminded herself she didn't need to feel sorry for him. "Okay." He said, defeated. "I'll leave."

It wasn't until she heard the definite thump of him landing back on the ground that she let the tears fall.


	13. Chapter 13

"Gonna offer up any reasons why you've been MIA the past few days?" Stan appeared suddenly by her side at the bus stop, a feat made remarkable by the heavy snowfall. Admittedly, she'd been in a bit of a daze - but she was sure she'd have heard the commotion of the four boys on their way to the stop. Cartman _alone_ was about as quiet as a gang of Harley Davidson motorcycles. But a quick glance around revealed that Stan was, miraculously, alone. She checked her phone to check the time - 7:25am. Unbelievable.

"I was sick. What the hell are you doing here this early?" One of the boys being at the bus stop earlier than 10 minutes late was about as rare as one of the boys being seen alone. Which brought the miracle count up to two.

"Spent the night at Wendy's." He shrugged. She could tell he was trying to be nonchalant about it, but the distinct " _I-just-had-sex_ " smirk all boys got was taking up prime real estate on his face. "Had to walk here from her house. Left early so her parents didn't see me."

She chuckled, knowing from the short conversations she'd had with him about their relationship that this was a pretty big deal. Stan had got caught sneaking into Wendys house a week ago - and her dad had chased him all the way to the end of the street. Cartman and Clyde were still taunting him about it. "Guessing her parents were out last night then?"

"Yeah, some sort of charity thing." He smiled off into the distance, clearly reliving some sort of happy memory. She was fine with leaving him to it - the longer she could put off talking about - or thinking about - the last few days the better. But, looking at him properly for the first time that morning, she realised something was very off. She toyed with not telling him for a few seconds, before coming to the conclusion that telling him would _almost_ be as fun as watching him get caught, and it was certainly a hell of a lot nicer.

"Uhm - _Stan_? Think you've forgotten anything?"

"Never." He smiled. God, he looked so dopey. Were all boys so crazy about girls? Anyone she'd ever dated - which, admittedly, wasn't a large number - had never been this enamoured. Lucky Wendy. "I won't _ever_."

"You sure?" She prodded. "Head ain't cold?"

He blinked a few times, finally clearing away the fog behind his eyes. One hand reached up to check his head - and his mouth popped open into a little O as he found nothing but a disheveled head of black hair. "Fuck. My beanie."

She nodded, stifling laughter. If he'd managed to forget his beanie there, it was amazing he'd made it all the way to the bus-stop without falling off a cliff or walking into traffic. That thing was basically glued to his head.

" _Oh god_ \- if her parents find it there -" He reached into his pocket in a panic, and finding nothing, dissolved into a bigger pool of anxiety. "Oh _come on_! I didn't leave my phone, did I?"

This time the laughter couldn't be stopped, and she laughed loudly into the silent morning as she pulled out her own phone. "Here, you idiot. Ring her on mine." He looked at her like she'd just saved his life and quickly dialed a number, walking a few metres away to start the conversation.

That left her relatively alone again, and unfortunately, back to her thoughts. She tried to push the image of the purple-clad anti-hero down as soon as it surfaced, but failed miserably. Each time she thought of him, a good old swirl of embarrassment, anger, and confusion settled in her stomach, and he _kept_ popping up in her head. She'd spent nearly the entire night either mulling on her anger or trying to rationalize it all.

The more she thought about it, the more she'd started to go back to thinking it was all some sort of elaborate prank. She _knew_ wasn't imagining it all, that was for sure. And that could be the only other reason why no one else in the town knew, right? If there was some undead boy wandering around, surely, _surely_ , someone else would have noticed. Especially - she thought, glancing towards Stan - one of his best friends. At some point, if Kenny was undead, Kyle or Stan would've said, like, _hey, if you see him die, no worries, he'll come back,_ right? It had to be some sort of prank. She didn't think Stan or Kyle would be in on it - it wasn't their kind of humour. Cartman - _well_ , that was more likely. But it was definitely some sort of prank.

Crunching snow alerted her to someone else's rapid approach. She peeked in the direction the noise was coming from - hoping it wasn't Kenny - and saw Kyle trying his hardest to run through the snow as quickly as possible. Being the tallest of the bunch, his legs should've been the best suited for the task - but yet, he looked much more like a baby giraffe trying to take its first steps than a gangly teenage boy walking through snow. And - she noticed - he too was alone. Three miracles. Shoulda got a lottery ticket.

Thankful she had another distraction from her thoughts, she watched with raised eyebrows as he got closer, and noticed the 200watt grin taking up half of his face. "Jesus Christ, whats got you so chipper so early? And why are you alone? Don't any of you hang out anymore?"

He managed to get out a choked _Cartman_ before raising up a gloved pointer finger, doubled over, hands on knees, either trying to catch his breath or choking on wheezy laughter. She waited for a few seconds before stamping her feet impatiently. "Come on - what'd he do? Finally have that long-awaited heart attack?"

"Better."

"Admitted he still sleeps with stuffed toys?"

" _BETTER_."

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I don't believe you."

He finally stood up straight, eyes twinkling down at her with obvious delight. "He was talking shit, right -"

"- _no surprise_ -"

"- Lol, right? Anyway, so he kept mouthing off and _out of nowhere_ Kenny punched him straight in the face _\- and_ that's not even the best part. Cartman was knocked out. _Immediately_. He was out for like 3 minutes, and when he got up -" Kyle had to stop for a few seconds to control his laughter - " _He cried_. It was glorious. Utterly glorious. I got a photo, hang on -"

She bit back laughter. Sure, it was funny to hear that someone had finally given Cartman what-for, and it's not like he didn't have it coming…

Kyle lowered his phone down to her level, displaying the full-screen photo of Cartmans puffy red face in all its glory. "Jesus Christ, it looks like his nose is broken." She groaned, looking away nearly immediately. The small snout that was usually in the middle of his face had bent and had a fairly large slit crossing the middle. She couldn't really blame Cartman for crying - it did look painful.

"Come on." Kyle fake pouted, clearly disappointed in her reaction. "I ran all the way here - and knocked at your house - because I knew you'd enjoy this almost as much as me. You've gotta think this is just a little funny."

She rolled her eyes and cracked a smile. He was right - if it was any other day, if she wasn't so annoyed with Kenny, if she hadn't seen enough blood to last her a lifetime - she would be laughing nearly as much as he was. And she was supposed to be acting normal. _And_ talking to Kyle was unbelievably easy. She pulled the phone back down to her and took a moment to giggle at the sobbing face of Cartman. "Alright, it's hilarious. Maybe not worth giving yourself a heart attack trying to run all the way here, but yeah, hilarious."

He blushed a little - or maybe he was still just flushed from the run - and shrugged his shoulders, still chuckling as he set the picture of Cartman as his wallpaper on his phone. "Had to get here before Cartman did to tell you the actual story, didn't I? Plus, Kenny was pretty mad - _fuck knows why_ , Cartmans been worse - so I figured giving him some space was probably the safest option. Whats Stan doing?"

"- _Uh_ , talking to Wendy." She said, after a few seconds of consideration. Sure, it would be fun to tell Kyle about it herself, but Stan would probably want the honours of divulging exactly _why_ he'd been so spaced out. If she wasn't so keen to avoid any conversation about Kenny, she'd ask why on earth he'd decided to finally punch Cartman. Instead, she took the chance to use Kyle's small town knowledge to solve something that had been bugging her since she got to the stop.

"Do you know who those kids are?" She jerked her head in the direction of four sullen looking teenagers across the street from them. They'd been there since before she'd turned up, and she kept catching them staring at her. They'd been moving slowly closer until Stan had turned up, at which point they'd been staying relatively still a few metres from the road on the other side. Something about them gave her the creeps.

It looked like it almost pained Kyle to tear his eyes from the bleeding picture of Cartman. "Oh, they're just the goth kids. They dropped out in like... year eight? Bunch of idiots."

"What are they doing over there? It's just an empty field, isn't it?" As far as she could see, the snow went unhindered until it hit a small farm, miles, and miles away. The fact that they were all wearing black and smoking cigarettes made them look particularly ominous in the white landscape.

"I don't know man, summoning the devil or something? Trying to count to three? Who cares? Oh - _look_ , here comes Cartman -"

Cartman made his way towards them at a much slower rate than Kyle had, occasionally grumbling something under his breath, or, in one case, kicking quite spectacularly at the snow. True to picture, blood was trickling out of his nose, and red stains had already darkened his jacket. Not to mention the pink, puffy, tear-filled eyes. She swallowed a laugh, a feat not matched by Kyle. Poor little antisemitic teddy bear.

"Oh _Cartman_ ," She adopted a quizzical tone, feigning ignorance. "What on earth happened? That looks _so_ painful."

He sneered in her direction, wiping a large dob of blood from his face with his sleeve. "Like your fucking _boyfriend_ hasn't already told you. Was it really worth running all the way here, Jew?"

Kyle nodded solemnly. "A hundred percent."

"Well, I'm glad you both think assault is _so_ funny." Cartman blinked the last few tears out of his eyes, and squared up, much like a cat before battle. "I tell you guys, I'm going to sue that poor piece of crap for every goddamn penny he has-"

"Oh - _hi Kenny!_ " Kyle looked over Cartmans shoulder, waving at thin air.

As much as she could tell he was trying to look brave, Cartman jumped out of his skin at the possibility Kenny was behind him and shut his mouth immediately. He didn't figure out the joke until both her and Kyle were doubled over in laughter. "I swear to fucking god -"

"What the fuck happened to you?" Stan cut whatever Cartman was about to threaten them with off, apparently finished with his phone call. She felt him shove her phone in back in her pocket and he flashed her a quick smile, before going in to properly look at Cartmans face. "Lose a battle with a door or something?"

Realising they had an unaware member present, Kyle and Cartman launched into separate stories. She caught a " _knuckle-duster_ " from Cartman, and a " _little-bitch-baby_ " from Kyle, but the rest was just a jumble of words, occasionally cut in by a shove or two from one of them. She fought back a small smile. Sure, she had only known them for a few weeks - but none of them could be in on it with Kenny, could they? Stan and Kyle were too sweet, and if Cartman was doing it, he'd have bragged about it by now - and why would Kenny have punched him? She felt herself fall comfortably back into the routine of the group. Maybe things weren't so bad. Maybe she could get stuff back to normal. The last few days had just been some sick joke by Kenny, which sucked, but feeling bad about it wouldn't change his behaviour. Plus, she had three - or rather, two and a half, Cartman didn't _really_ count - other friends right here. _God_ , she shook her head slightly, she couldn't believe she was almost convinced Kenny was _actually_ undead. This was real life. Zombies weren't real.

The simultaneous stories between Cartman and Kyle had become slightly more physical. "Stop lying, you little Jew!" Cartman pushed Kyles arm roughly, sending him back a couple of steps. "I was _not_ out for three minutes."

"You were _so_!" Kyle shot back. "Plus, I'm taller than you, just because I don't have the exact body shape of an over-grown garden gnome - like _someone_ \- does _not_ mean I'm _little_ -"

"If I was a fucking garden gnome, would I be able to do _this_?" Cartman yanked the hat off Kyles head, revealing a wild mess of bright red curls that fell around Kyles face. Cartman threw the hat with a flourish onto the road, which prompted Kyle to launch himself at Cartman - well, he would have, if Stan hadn't jumped in and held him back.

"Jesus Christ you two, calm down." Stan was laughing. A head shorter than Kyle but way more built from his years on the football team, he had no trouble keeping him a safe distance from Cartman. "Kyle - _calm down_ \- Cooper, grab Kyles hat for me -"

She rolled her eyes, but obeyed, walking out into the middle of the street. Stan _always_ seemed to manage to break them up just before they got physical. She supposed she didn't really want to see them fight - but the way Cartman taunted Kyle so much, it had to happen sometime. She picked the green hat up gently and turned back to see Kyle still straining to reach Cartman. She couldn't help but notice Kenny had also just reached the stop, gingerly rubbing the ungloved hand he must've punched Cartman with. "Come on Kyle," She laughed, trying her hardest not to look at Kenny, "It's just a hat -"

But she couldn't hear whatever it was Kyle said back, because suddenly, the screeching of tires drowned out all else.

* * *

Authors note: Hey, any readers that have stuck around! First of all, thanks. Second of all, I recently finished my last semester of school - so that means there's finally gonna be regular updates! Look out for another chapter the 6th of next month (or even sooner, if I'm feeling particularly confident). I have a lot more time to work on this now (you can probably tell by my highest word-count on a chapter ever) so hopefully this fic is just gonna improve.


	14. Chapter 14

The next few moments passed so quickly she could barely register them. One second, she was standing in the street waving Kyles hat around, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground on the other side of the road with snow soaking into her clothes. Everything sounded wrong and muffled and so far away, and all she could see in focus was a brown glove in her lap that definitely wasn't hers. She blinked a few times, trying to work out how she had gotten here, and where the glove had come from, and why the earth felt like it was moving much faster than usual. But then as quickly as it had gone, all sound came rushing back. Two pops in her ears and it was like she emerged from underwater, with all the noise of the world suddenly there, so much louder than she remembered it being.

"Oh my god, they killed Kenny!" Stans voice screamed, the noise ringing in her ears.

"You _bastards_!" Kyle followed.

She looked up towards their voices, and saw the big yellow school bus occupying the space she'd been in only moments before. After a few more dazed blinks, she also managed to figure out how she wasn't roadkill. What remained of Kenny's body was lying ten feet in front of the bus, limbs sticking out at odd angles, blood turning the white snow a dark red. The strangled cry that escaped her lips was quickly muffed by the glove she had gripped in her hand. Not _again_.

She swallowed the thick lump in her throat and struggled back her feet. She forced herself to keep looking at him as she walked closer and closer until she was standing over the mess, squeezing the glove in her hand so tightly her hand grew tingly. She had to just look at the body properly, without letting her emotions or shock get in the way. She didn't want to, but it was like a magnet was drawing her closer - innately, she knew she had to look at him to know for certain if this was real.

His skin still stuck out as a light pink while surrounded by the snow, but she could tell he had already begun to turn a sickly pale as more and more blood leaked out of him. Limbs were no longer where they were supposed to be - arms bent at odd angles, and a large bone had forced its way through both his skin and pants halfway up his shin. One ungloved hand revealed exactly where the glove she was now holding had come from. His jacket hid the brunt of the devastation on his top half, but the dark blood was staining the orange so fast she knew something terrible was underneath. She tried to force herself to push the hood off his face so she could see him clearly, but the blue eyes were already dull and lifeless, and she didn't know if she could stomach looking at them any longer.

She'd been so sure only a few minutes ago that Kenny had faked it all... maybe she'd managed to block some of the more traumatic parts, maybe she was just searching for some semblance of what should be normal and real, but _now_ , now that she was standing over the body, all trace of belief that he had been faking it had disappeared. The memories of his two previous deaths pushed down the wall she'd fought so hard to shove them behind, and forced themselves to play on repeat in her brain. She'd somehow convinced herself that they weren't that bad, the brain matter wasn't that realistic, the blood dripping onto the carpet _really_ looked more like tomato sauce, but now bile rose up in the back of her throat as she was forced to remember the events without any filters. She could see entirely too much of his innards. _Really_ realistic looking innards. Oh, god.

" _Uh_ \- Cooper, are you coming?" Kyle asked, with a voice so calm it managed to tear her away from Kenny. He'd walked around the bus and picked his hat up off the ground where she'd fallen, a strangely pleasant smile on his face, considering the circumstances. He stood out like a sore thumb - shouldn't he be calling an ambulance? Or checking on Kenny? Or, hell, even looking just a _little_ bit upset? Why was he just grinning at her like a big dumb idiot?

"Coming?" She muttered, eyes drifting back to the corpse. It looked so _real_. A few rats had even emerged from under the snow and started nibbling on him. She shooed them away with her foot. If she touched him… would he still be warm? She crouched down next to him, trying to will her shaking hands to reach out and touch his ungloved hand. The red marks from his attack on Cartman were still plainly obvious on the knuckles. Her fingertips grazed the skin of his fingers, and the petering warmth of his body was too obvious to miss. Something flickered in her head, and suddenly, she was absolutely sure this was Kenny. There was no rationale she could try to work into it, trying to convince herself otherwise. This was him. This was real.

"… On the bus. To school." Kyle said slowly, watching her kneel down in front of Kenny with mild curiosity. Things started ticking over in her brain. This was really Kenny, and he had really died, so why _wasn't_ Kyle freaking out? Why wasn't anyone? She suddenly realised how quiet it was. She looked over at the bus. Every head was still placed firmly in their seat, staring over at her with the same mild curiosity of Kyle. No one looked even a little bit sad, or shocked, or sick. The faces looked more like they'd just seen a dog manage to walk on two legs and were still trying to figure out exactly how he'd managed to do it, than witnessing a car hitting someone. This wasn't normal. The only way this made any sense was if they all knew he was undead too, and they'd all seen it so many times that it had become dull and unimportant. Suddenly, the familiar anger rose up in her chest as she realised she'd been deceived - where'd they get off making her feel like she was crazy before? They had a fucking _immortal_ walking around in their town!

"- Oh, you mean the one that just killed Kenny?" She bit out, storming over to Kyle. "Yeah, _sure_ , why not? You know, if you knew about this, it really would've been fucking polite to share -"

"Wait, that _what_?" He was no longer looking at her with curiosity - no, this was pure disbelief. His ginger eyebrows furrowed as he worriedly glanced over at Stan, who was still standing by the bus door. The fact that the dead body was no more than a few metres in front of him made it all the more infuriating. Kenny was right there!

"That did -" She jabbed her thumb backward, turning around and -

Saw nothing. Kenny was gone. The blood was gone. Hell, even the rats had disappeared.

Kyle looked over her head, and then looked down at her, confusion evident in his green eyes. "What?"

"I-" She started, and then quickly realised she didn't know how to finish the sentence. It had definitely been there a few seconds ago. He'd been right there - real and mangled and bleeding out everywhere. "Where did Kenny go?"

"He went home." Kyle said slowly. "Are you sure you're okay Cooper? I think you might've hit your head when you fell..."

"No!" She snapped. Kenny didn't just walk off home. That body looked real - and it looked _really_ fucked up. And even, _even_ if by some sort of magic he had managed to fake something that realistically, there was no way there was time for Kenny to clean up all the mess in that short of a time. Blood had been _everywhere_. The last minute had completely destroyed both trains of reasoning she'd managed to find in the situation, and suddenly, she found herself spiraling again. It felt like every time she found a fucking handle on the situation, everything fell out from underneath her. Why wasn't anything making any sense anymore? At what point did immortality and death and cults become such frequent topics in her life? Why was she always one step behind everything? She couldn't stop the thoughts racing around in her head, and soon her chest started to tighten, and her breath kept catching in her throat, and the images in her head kept flashing back up. Gunshot. Stabbing. Crash. Gunshot. Stabbing. Crash. One moment it was like she had thin cellophane wrapped around her head, and the next, she was surrounded by a deluge of icy water, filling her throat and nose and suffocating her without release. Her limbs didn't feel right anymore, they were frozen yet constantly shaking, trembling at a rate she couldn't control. She knew these symptoms - this was exactly what happened to her out on that rock by the edge of town. She knew what was coming, but she couldn't stop it.

No. She _couldn't_ have another attack right now. Not in front of everyone. Kyle was staring down at her with way too much pity and concern already. He tried to move closer to her, arms outstretched to wrap around her, but she forced all her energy into backing away. She didn't need him closer. She didn't need his pity. She needed to stop all of this happening. To find a way to get her fucking breathing back to normal. To get out of this water filling her lungs. Her mind raced frantically for something to ground herself with. Looking at everyone else wasn't helping, _no_ , that just reminded her how pathetic she looked. She stared at the ground, blocking them all from her view. The only thing she could see now was the white snow, and - _voila_! The glove. _His_ glove. It was still here, still in her hand. She squeezed it as hard as she could, the muscles in her fingers straining against their own size, the inability to go any tighter reminding her that the glove existed. That everything that had just happened, had happened. He'd been here. He'd died. She started to squeeze rhythmically, timing each weak breath with another squeeze of the glove. Slowly, it helped, if only a little, and soon she found herself able to speak with some semblance of conviction. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she forced a frown, attempting to destroy any idea of weakness from the attack with a severe aura of hostility. "Kyle, do you honestly expect me to believe he was able to get up and walk off with that much blood coming out of him?"

" _What_? What blood?" Kyles eyes widened in shock. "He was at the bus stop… _remember -_ Cartman was being a shit and Kenny stormed off?" The concern in his eyes made her want to slap him. How could he be lying straight to her face like this? "Cooper, what do you think you saw? Maybe you should sit down."

She tried to keep her tone civil, which took quite a bit of doing. "Kyle, if he just walked off, how did I manage to not be roadkill?"

"You jumped out the way. Pretty badass, to be honest. I didn't think you could move that fast." Kyle gingerly reached up to her head, presumably to check for lumps, and she swatted his hand away. She pushed past him and stormed her way over to the door of the bus, where an increasingly confused Stan was still waiting for them both. Cartman had evidently already gotten on the bus, but she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him, so his word meant nothing anyway. "Stan, what just happened?"

"The bus almost hit you..." He looked over her shoulder at Kyle, mimicking the exact expression Kyle had. _Assholes_. "But you jumped out the way in time. Why?"

Just squeeze the glove. _Squeeze_. "Where'd Kenny go?"

"He went home, I think, he walked off just down there -" Stan pointed back towards their houses, but she was too busy trying to repress the urge to punch him to look.

"But you just yelled ' _Oh my god, they killed Kenny_!'" She countered. "Not even a minute ago!"

"Cooper, I _swear_ I didn't." God, she shouldn't have lent the asshole her phone. Something was going on here. The last few days had been testing her - but she knew what was real and what wasn't now. She was sure of it. She had to be. She'd seen Kenny die. They'd seen Kenny die. It _had_ happened. The fist of her left hand had a tightly balled up glove as proof.

She inhaled sharply and turned away from him. The bus driver had started beeping and -bingo. They couldn't have gotten the bus driver in on it, surely! An adult - admittedly, not one she particularly trusted - couldn't go along with this. They'd have to tell her truth. She ran up the bus steps, and before she'd even managed to ask, the bus driver dashed her hopes. "Sorry lil' lady! Lucky you jumped out the way in time or we woulda' had quite an accident. Shouldn't _really_ be out on the street though, should ya?"

She swallowed the curses she felt like shouting and looked around at her peers. None gave her any comfort - each face was _too_ normal, _too_ happy, _too_ bored. Everything she saw was against what she knew to be true. She felt like her mind was racing a mile a minute. The panic from her attack was still threatening to rise back up, and each confused face staring at her was adding to the pressure. She moved slowly to her seat as she forced herself to look at the facts. _Fact_ : Kenny was just hit by a bus. She had his glove in her fucking hand as proof. _Fact_ : The aftermath was disgusting, and realistic, and definitely worth freaking out over. _Fact_ : At least 30 kids and one adult witnessed this, and not one of them reacted, and not one of them seemed to remember it happening barely two minutes later.

She caught Butters eye as she got to her seat, and he grinned happily at her. "Sure am glad you jumped out the way in time, Cooper." Oh _god_ , Butters couldn't be lying to her now. He didn't have a mean bone in his body! "Pretty frightening though, isn't it? The street sure is a dangerous place."

She nodded weakly as she sat down. Both Stan and Kyle shot her a very pointed, very confused look as they made their way to their seats in front of her, and she squeezed the glove tightly once again. How could they look so concerned, yet be purposely causing her distress? She fought against the idea in her head. They couldn't be doing this on purpose, could they? There were at least 30 kids here, plus an adult. There was no way so many people could organise themselves into something as sick as this. So why were they acting like this?

The bus started moving again as the boys sat down, and as they passed the group of goths in the field, she could've sworn one of them waved at her. She held eye contact, shifting to turn in her seat as the bus drove further away. The snow showed no sign now, but they must have been barely a metre away from where Kenny's body had landed. They were looking at her different to everyone else - no confusion, no condescending pity. Just dull, resolute smirks. Fuck. They knew something. She was sure of it.

"Uh - C - Cooper?" Tweeks stuttering voice drew her out of the staring match. She turned back to face him, her frown harsh towards the nervous guy. "I - um - well, _we_ \- you've been away a couple days, and we thought - _well_ , you probably didn't know that Garrison was going to do a test today, and -" He twitched particularly violently, and she noticed Craig squeeze his hand a little tighter. That seemed to give Tweek the confidence to continue whatever he was trying to say, and he leant down to dig something out of his bag, and finding a sheet of paper, held it out to her. "We photocopied the notes we did - if - _if_ you wanted them. Seemed like a lot had been going on with you."

She gingerly took the notes, blankly staring at the handwriting so neat it must've been Craigs. Every new thing that happened muddled her brain even more. "I - um, yeah, I didn't know there was a test. Thanks guys." The gesture was so nice, and so starkly unsuited to the rest of the situation. They thought about her enough to photocopy their notes, but were fine with pretending like they hadn't just witnessed a hit and run?

Craig rolled his eyes. "Figures those four assholes didn't bother to tell you about it."

"Oh, I'm sorry Craig, _so_ _sorry_ we don't help people cheat -" Cartman twisted around in his seat immediately, glaring at the three of them with utter distaste.

"It's not cheating, you fucking dipshit, it's telling someone about a test." Craig sneered. "What, were you hoping if you didn't say anything, you'd finally not be at the bottom of the class?"

"You cheat off Token every chance you get anyway!" Tweek squeaked in, miraculously full of confidence, and she almost thought Cartman was going to start on him - but the look Craig gave to Cartman made him shut his mouth immediately. It was somewhere between a mother lion protecting her cubs and Mrs. Broflovski, and it was completely and utterly terrifying.

"Fucking homos." Cartman muttered, turning back in his seat. She didn't blame Cartman for backing off. She'd seen Craig reduce a ninth grader to a blubbering mess of tears when they'd stuttered sarcastically in front of Tweek. It was never worth it.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Kyle asked. Both he and Stan had turned around in their seats during the confrontation, and were now staring at her with that ever-present pity. Cartman also turned to look back at her - but he seemed more amused at her behaviour. At least Cartmans smirk was in-character for him, and somehow, she found comfort in that.

"I'm - I'm fine. Must've just been…" God, it was hard to say. It was like admitting she was wrong when she knew she wasn't. But there was clearly something bigger going on here, and until she figured out what it was, there was no point in continuing to make a scene. She still didn't know what exactly was happening, but she knew she had to talk to Kenny about it. Soon. She forced herself to bite out the remaining two words. "-the _shock_."

"Look, Cooper, you're probably just menstruating," Cartman said, in an attempt at what he probably thought was a comforting tone. "It's not your fault you're acting like a crazy person. It's your vagina."

The blood was still dribbling from inside his nose. Seeing an opportunity to both get back at him and draw the attention away from her ever-growing spectacle, she tried to adopt the sweetest tone possible. "Yeah, you're probably right. Hey, dude, I always keep some medical supplies in my bag. Do you want something to absorb the blood? It'll help stop the swelling and the flow, I promise."

"... Wait, really?" Cartman sounded suitably suspicious at the change of topic and her tone of voice. Usually, when he made that sort of comment, she'd be halfway through a tirade by now. " _You're_ going to help _me_?"

"Of course! We're friends, aren't we?" She smiled, digging around in her bag until she found what she wanted, and unwrapped two before she pulled them out and handed them to him. "Here - you just put one up each nostril. They'll help, they're really good at soaking up blood."

He glared down at the two absorbent tubes in his hand. "I don't... I don't think I want these. Not from you."

"Look, do what you want. You can use them or you can keep bleeding till you pass out." She couldn't keep pushing - Cartman wasn't an idiot. She'd messed with him before, and over the last few attempts, finely tuned her ability to manipulate him, even a little. He had a fairly distinct weakness - he lacked any knowledge on the female anatomy. A pity for any girl he managed to date, but for her, amazing. "I promise they'll soak it up. And look - two little strings for easy removal! You can take them out whenever you want."

He still looked suspicious, but thankfully did as she said, sticking one up each of his nostrils. Craig started laughing, but she glared at him, and he turned it into a coughing fit. Cartman spent the rest of the trip telling absolutely everyone on the bus about how Kenny had jumped him - and, _of course_ , how Cartman had managed to fight him off, and how much worse Kenny looked than him - and in doing so, drew a particularly large amount of attention to himself and his nose. Soon enough, her mission was accomplished - everyone was now entirely focused on getting Cartman to walk around like that for as long as possible, and hopefully, quickly forgetting her mini-freak out.

In fact, it wasn't until they'd made it all the way into class that somebody made a comment to Cartman.

"Cartman, _look_ , even though you are a bit of a cunt, they aren't going to do anything. Take those fucking tampons out _now_." Garrison groaned.

* * *

Back again! Thanks for reading and turning on notifications and all that! I dont have any people IRL that like South Park, so I was wondering, what did you guys think of the last episode of season 22?


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